


Ladybird

by hesychia



Category: Ladyhawke (1985), Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bandits, Alternate Universe - Cursed, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-10-17 04:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20615078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesychia/pseuds/hesychia
Summary: "She will be traveling with a black panther. The panther who... loves her." Ladybird and Chat Noir are the fiercest and most heroic bandits in Fontainebleau Forest, and leaders of the notorious outlaw gang, Les Miraculeaux. The heroes harbor a dark secret, however, a curse that keeps them always together, but eternally apart. Ladyhawke AU, with Robin Hood-esque shenanigans





	1. The Bird and the Beau

**Author's Note:**

> I posted most of this bad boy on fanfiction.net so if you want spoilers, check it out. I'll probably be making a lot of edits from that version. Posting weekly, either Thursdays or Mondays. Love and stuff.

I jerk my head. Lower my beak. My target is there. Black. Black means home.

I pull my wings into my body. Wind whooshes past; trees below me. I dive. Leaves blur past; now the trees above me. I thrust my talons out. I dig into leather. Flap, flap, flap. Green eyes. Like the trees above me.

I chirp. He smiles. Pale skin. Yellow hair. Grass in the summer hair. Green eyes. Like the trees.

Black gloves; leather feathers holding meat. Snatch. Look up, thrust head upwards. Sliding down my throat. Shake. Ruffle. He laughs. I chirp.

From the trees, a crackle. Turn my head. He does too. Crackle again. He frowns. The black horse murmurs. I chirp. He lifts his arm and I leap into the air. Flap, flap, flap. His leg swings over. Black fingers grab the reins.

Flap. Trees above. Flap, flap. Trees below. Cry out, “Kee-kee-kee!”

The other horses stomp. The other men yell.

I slowly swing my form around, air beneath my wings and prey below. I flap. Away from the green eyes and black feathers. Lose the yelling men. All before the sun sets.

* * * * * 

“Sabrina!”

The mousy redhead winced, shifting towards her lady and gazing at the clean black shoes resting on the floor of the carriage. “Mademoiselle?”

“Sabrina, what is this on my face?”

The handmaid raised her eyes up along the smooth blue fabric of the skirt, the black lace cinching a corset beyond its capacity, the golden chain barely holding up a large pendant, up into the icy blue eyes of her lady, the daughter of the Marquis of Paris, Chloe of the House of Bourgeois. Sabrina stammered nervously. “M-m-makeup, my lady?”

Chloe hissed, “No! It’s dirt! Dirt tainting my flawless skin!” Sabrina scrambled for a handkerchief as Chloe carried on. “This will not stand! I must look absolutely impeccable! I must look fit to be a comtesse!” Sabrina struggled to gently remove the dirt as Chloe reached into her bag and pulled out a small painting nestled in an oval frame. “My darling Adrien mustn’t see me like this,” she cooed to the picture. A young man stared back at her, boredom in his green eyes and discomfort in his lips. A large hat sat above his sandy blond hair and a blue jerkin held him captive.

Sabrina nodded politely. “Of course, my lady.” She finally removed the offending bit of soil, leaning back into her seat. “You must be rather excited.”

“Of course I am!” Chloe tilted her head, daydreaming. “Imagine! We’ll arrive at the castle and he’ll see me, but how I’ve changed after all these years. If he falls in love with me quickly enough, I won’t even have to go back to Paris! Oh, the feasts, the parties, and of course, Adrien will shower me with exquisite gowns!” She sighed happily. “Not to mention all the social events I’ll get to attend.” She squeaked. “Christmas with the king! Can you imagine?”

Sabrina smiled encouragingly, beaming for her lady’s good fortune. Chloe’s eyes turned from joy to slight disdain. “No, I don’t suppose you can.” The handmaid’s shoulders sank.

The sound of hoofbeats startled the two; Sabrina lifted the flap concealing the window. “Some men are approaching.” The carriage slowed to a stop and the girls heard voices. The handmaiden squinted her eyes, trying to make out the scene only ten feet away. “It’s… two guards. They’re wearing all violet, with Comte Agreste’s symbol on it.”

Chloe gasped. “The comte must have sent them to escort us! Oh, Sabrina, isn’t that so thoughtful?”

The handmaid chose not to listen as Chloe continued rambling about her new life as the comtesse, instead focusing her blue eyes on the new guards on horseback. She found it hard to shake the feeling that something was off. If Comte Agreste was genuinely concerned for their safety, why send only two guards?

There was a few minutes of talking before the carriage was set into motion again. Sabrina sat back against her seat, considering for a moment before Chloe barked at her and assumed all of her attention once more. 

The carriage moved at a painfully slow pace, the thick green of the forest rising on either side of the road. Perched in a tall branch, a muscled young man sat picking at an arrowhead, wearing a brown tunic with a monkey design embroidered into the center. He watched as the carriage crawled towards the slight curve of the road, where the vegetation grew too thick to see far ahead or behind. He had become accustomed to the waiting game, though it still frustrated him. 

Beside him, where the branch met the trunk of the large tree, a smaller girl with pink hair yawned, crossing her arms over the rabbit design sewn into her light blue tunic. “Are they there yet, Kim?”

“Not yet.” Kim removed his archer’s hat and pressed his fingers to his forehead, absentmindedly running them through the blond streak in his otherwise dark brown hair. “We just have to be patient, Alix.”

“Ugh!” The girl crossed her arms and huffed. “Can’t they speed things up? What’s the point of the comte sending guards if it’s just gonna slow them down?”

“That’s kinda the point.” Kim lifted his eyes to a flash of red in the sky. As the carriage rounded the corner and slowed at the curve in the road, a falcon swung low above them. Kim grinned and pulled his hat down, nocking an arrow on the string of his bow. “Get ready, Alix.”

The girl was already up, a leather band in her hands. “I was born ready.”

Above them, the falcon gleamed red in the afternoon sun. The bird let loose a scream, diving towards the carriage.

“That’s the signal!” Kim fired three shots that sank into the earth in front of the marquis’s guards. With each arrow, the horses squealed and jumped back. The uniformed men drew their swords. 

Kim was too far to hear the guards, but he knew what they were saying. Robbers! From the east side!

The archer nocked his final arrow, firing and rooting it in the thick wood of the carriage doorway. He set down his bow as he pulled the rope taut, the other end secured by Alix against the trunk of the tree. Kim smirked at her. “Try not to have too much fun.”

“As if.” She tossed the leather band over the rope, letting out a whoop as she zipped down the line and out into the open air. Alix rode the rope down to the carriage door, where she pressed her feet against the wood and jumped to the ground. She pulled out a small dagger and ran at the marquis’s guards. 

No sooner had the men swung at her than she slid the dagger against the straps securing their saddles and darted back into the brush. The men paused, exchanged confused glances, and then cried out as their weight caused the saddles to slip off of their mounts and they crashed to the ground. The horses squealed and galloped away, freed from their riders. 

Comte Agreste’s men, who were still saddled, called back to the coachman and the 4 guards of the marquis, “Keep your eyes ready! There may be more!”

The group trained their gaze on the east side, picking out a few shadows that moved among the trees. Above them, the red falcon darted back and forth over the trees, crying out and drawing the attention of the guards. 

Meanwhile, five figures moved silently from the west side of the road. The first was Alix, who had circled around the troupe without being noticed. She climbed the carriage soundlessly and perched beside the unaware coachman. She cleared her throat and he turned, jolting in his seat. She smirked before punching him in the face and knocking him to the ground. 

Before the marquis’ guards could react, each had been shoved to the earth, their faces in the dirt. The guards were bound with their hands behind their back in moments, crying out to the comte’s guards for help.

The duo in violet watched from horseback, unconcerned. One of the guards grinned and removed his uniform to reveal a green jerkin with a turtle symbol embroidered in the front. He tossed his violet cap and lifted a hood over his brown eyes. “Another successful robbery, my lady.”

His companion removed her uniform to reveal an orange tunic with a fox symbol embroidered in the front. She removed her cap and small, fabric fox ears poked up among her long auburn hair, which was secured in a ponytail. “As always.”

The attackers took their time with the loot, unlacing the various satchels that were secured on top of the carriage. From inside, Sabrina and Chloe sat huddled and afraid. The marquis’ daughter suddenly felt a flush of anger and shoved her handmaiden away, opening the door and yelling, “How dare you!”

All eyes turned to the mademoiselle, who realized very quickly she was outnumbered. Chloe cleared her throat, steeled her gaze, and cried out, “Who is in charge here! I demand to speak to your leader!”

The red falcon swung low, it’s talons reaching to Chloe’s hair. The girl yipped and ducked, watching as the falcon flapped again and alighted on the arm of its owner, a man who had appeared from the forest, mounted on a great ebony stallion.

The bandit’s leader wore all black save for a small golden medallion that hung around his neck. Fabric cat ears rose amongst his sandy blond hair, which hung over the black mask.

As he approached, the bandit let out a short gasp, his green eyes searching her face. He whispered, “Chloe?”

The falcon flapped its wings and took to the air, knocking the cat back to reality. He dismounted and approached the carriage with a grin on his face, reaching out a gloved hand to take Chloe’s. “Didn’t mean to spoil your road trip, mademoiselle. My name is Chat Noir, and these are Les Miraculeux, the bandits of Fontainebleau Forest.”

Chloe stood shellshocked for a moment, before she regained her composure and yelled, “What is the meaning of this? Do you have any idea who my father is? Can you even begin to comprehend-”

The leader waited for a moment while she ranted, his eyes growing bored. Meanwhile, the rest of the bandits cleared out what was left of the inventory on the carriage, tying the marquis’ guards to the roof instead of the many purses and bags Chloe had brought with her. Overhead, the red falcon circled. It let out a cry and the noblewoman winced.

“And not to mention that hideous bird! When my father hears of this, he’ll send one of his finest marksmen to shoot the thing down!”

The pause that followed was sickening. Chloe wondered what it was she had said to silence everyone. Chat Noir leaned in, his green eyes narrowed. He surprised her when he smiled. “Pardon, my lady, but about what size gown are you wearing?”

***

The castle of Comte Agreste was located at the edge of the Fontainebleau Forest. The elevation of the castle offered a view of the endless wheat fields and the road leading to Paris at the north. The south towers provided a lookout of the forest itself, with it’s high trees and large rocks littered throughout the wilds. 

It was in one of these southern facing towers that Comte Agreste liked best to watch from, surveying the woods and the secrets that ran rampant there. He glanced up as he heard a knock at the door. “I asked not to be disturbed, Natalie.”

A woman with black hair entered. “Forgive my intrusion, my lord. There is a new arrival at our door; Marquis Bourgeois’s daughter.”

“I already gave you instruction on what to do when she arrived. Why bother me now?”

Natalie cleared her throat. “She… Her party had some trouble on the road, my lord. Her carriage was overtaken by bandits, and her guards were bound and secured to the top of the coach. She was also in her… chemise.”

The news was distressing, but the idea of the marquis’ daughter being so thoroughly humiliated did give him a sick sense of amusement. “That’s… such terrible news. Any information on the ruffians?”

Natalie approached and stood beside him, handing the comte a piece of parchment and an arrow. “This was secured to the back of the carriage, my lord.”

The parchment held the inked image of a cat’s pawprint; the arrow was tipped with bright red plumage. Comte Agreste clenched his fist in frustration. “Les Miraculeux.”

“Ladybird and Chat Noir?”

Comte Agreste steeled his gaze on the forest. “Those bandits have plagued me and my guests long enough. Send out a guard. If we find Ladybird, we find my son. That is, if he’s still alive.”

“At once, my lord.”

“And Nathalie. Remember, she will be traveling with a black panther. The panther who... loves her.”

“Yes, my lord.” As the door shut behind Natalie, the comte stood with his hands behind his back before the large window. “I will find you, Adrien, and I will have Ladybird’s head for taking you from me.”


	2. La Fille et Le Félin

I sniff at the earth, peering into the darkness as my eyes pick out a brief flash of color. Red. Red means home. 

Prowling through the underbrush. The half moon high above me shining as the light falls through the leaves, dappled on the damp earth around me. A twig snaps. Stop. Stay low. 

A voice comes from so far away, but it is clear. Clear and familiar. I relax. 

Her footprints are soft on the leaves, her cloak trailing behind her. I step silently towards her, as if she were prey. I am nearly too close when I lower my body, pressing my paws into the earth. She steps again. I pounce. 

She cries out and her arms are around me. I roll to the side, stand up with my head down and tail high. Her blue eyes, glaring. I purr. Brushing dirt off herself. 

I am under her hands then, purring as I crawl over her. She laughs. I lick at her face. She pushes me away. 

I walk beside her. There is the foreign orange glow of fire, and I mewl at her. She kneels and kisses my nose. I turn and bolt into the darkness, my stomach growling. Food. I must find food. All before the sun rises. 

*** 

Far from the road, deep in the heart of the Fontainebleau Forest, a band of thieves sat around a fire. A few of them were still reveling in the spoils of their efforts, while others slept during the short reprieve. They lay amongst their scattered belongings, some stolen but mostly personal gear. 

Folding her fox tunic, Alya looked up to see Nino approach, his green cape slung over his shoulder and a small box in his hands. He sat on the fallen log beside her, popping open the lid of the box and offering her the contents. “Look what Mademoiselle Bourgeois was bringing to Comte Agreste! They say it’s called chocolate, from the Americas.”

She scoffed. “I am so not eating that!”

“Come on, Alya, try it!”

A voice came from the darkness. “I’ll try some, Nino.” They looked to see a young woman approach, wearing a long red robe with black spots. Her dark hair was tied neatly into two low ponytails, her azure eyes smiling in the firelight. 

“Marinette!” The rest of the camp stirred at the sound of her name, surrounding her as she sat beside Alya on the log. 

Alix jumped up. “You wouldn’t believe our haul today!”

Their voices overlapped as everyone spoke at once, eager to relay the events of the day. Marinette held up a hand, laughing, “One at a time! Please!”

They took turns telling Marinette the story. Some of it was told with great exaggeration, which the black haired girl took with a grain of salt. When they had finally concluded their updates, she smiled and clapped her hands together. “Well, it sounds like you all had a successful raid, but remember; we still have work to do! Where’s the rest of the haul?”

Nino pointed towards the edge of the campsite, where a cart sat loaded with a majority of the satchels and purses. “We already took our share, and the rest is ready to go.”

Marinette grinned at her friend. “Perfect; thank you.”

Beside her, Alya cleared her throat. “Have you checked your bedroll lately?”

The girl in red waved her hand absently. “I’ll check it later, let’s get the horses hitched.”

“Girl,” the fox said. “Go check it.”

While the other bandits stayed in tents, Marinette had made her roll beneath a rock outcropping. She knelt beside the simple layers of sheepskins, staring at the folded fabric on top. Attached was a piece of parchment; she squinted in the moonlight and read, For you, milady. 

Marinette held up the fabric and stared at the light blue of the dress, the pink ribbon crisscrossing the bodice, the lace trim on the sleeves and neckline. She sighed and clutched the fabric to her chest, murmuring, “Oh, chaton.” Kneeling there in the darkness, Marinette squeezed her eyes shut and sniffled quietly. 

After a few moments, she heard voices calling her. Marinette composed herself and left the dress tucked between the sheepskins, removing a black and red spotted mask. She fixed it to her face, moving down the hill and towards the loaded cart. The bandits looked as Marinette stepped forward, the firelight flickering over her red robe. 

Marinette moved to the two horses; one was the great black friesian that Chat Noir rode, while the other was a rich chestnut. She pet the chestnut, murmuring, “Ready, Tikki? Spots on?”  
The horse snorted, butting her head gently against Marinette. The girl turned to the rest of the bandits, smiling under the mask. “Let’s do it.”

***

There were a number of small settlements and villages scattered around Castle Agreste. This certain village seemed to be one of the many suffering from the comte’s high taxes. The farmers and townsfolk would flock to the tavern at night, discussing their woes. 

“Half of my crop this year will go to the comte. Half!”

“At this rate, soon we’ll be paying Comte Agreste to work.”

“He must be living very well if he never leaves that castle.”

“Not even to go looking for his own son! Instead, he uses our earnings to pay others to go looking for him. If my Jaime ever went missing, you’d best believe I’d be out there every night, just me and a lantern looking for the boy.”

“Please, the boy isn’t lost. Comte Agreste’s son probably ran away.”

“Oh really? Then why do the comte’s men keep sticking up those reward posters for Ladybird and Chat Noir?”

“If it’s true that they kidnapped him, then damn the comte! Ladybird’s brought nothing but goodness to the people, which is more than you can say for him.”

In the corner table, a young woman sat listening, wearing a brown robe. Her grey eyes flitted to the door as a woman entered the tavern, yelling, “It’s Ladybird and Les Miraculeux!”

The tavern cleared out quickly as the villagers hustled into the street. Soon, the cloaked girl sat alone. She sat twirling a coin in her fingers, before leaving it on the table and joining the commotion. 

The girl watched from the door as Ladybird stood in the back of the cart, beaming down at the townsfolk. “Yes, everyone get in line! We have some extra trinkets tonight, and gold pieces for every family. We also have food!”

The cloaked girl paused, then followed suit and stood in line with the other villagers. The woman before her in line took Ladybird’s hand in hers, murmuring, “My daughter wants to go to Paris to find a husband, but she has nothing to wear.”

“What luck!” Ladybird turned and pulled out one of many fine dresses. “She might not fit, but you can always cut the sleeves and make something new!”

“Merci, Ladybird.” The woman clutched the dress to her chest as the cloaked girl stepped forward. 

The heroine grinned down at her. “Would you also like a dress, mademoiselle? We have a surplus tonight.”

The cloaked girl shook her head, pressing her hands together in front of her and gazing up at Ladybird innocently. “Oh no, my lady, I’m afraid I must ask something far greater of you. My name is Lila, and you see, I am a stranger to this country. I came here to find my lover, who lives in a village near Paris. We had written each other letters every day for years but then one day, the letters stopped. I fear he has been… kidnapped.”

Ladybird nodded determinedly. “What is his name, mademoiselle? Les Miraculeux will find him and bring him back to you!”

Lila sniffled pathetically. “His name… is Adrien.”

Two of the villagers behind the girl stopped chatting and listened. Ladybird herself seemed caught off guard. She cocked her head to the side and said carefully, “And… What does this Adrien look like?”

“Oh, he has sandy blond hair, and green eyes, and soft skin.” She sighed and put her hands to her face. “We met once when he came to visit my country, years ago, and we’ve been in love ever since.”

The heroine nodded thoughtfully. “The only Adrien I know of that matches that description… is the comte’s son. However, that’s impossible since he went missing… what, two years ago?”

A girl dressed as a fox nodded from inside the cart. Lila pressed her hands together and pleaded, “Please! Will you at least look for him? I’ve been so worried!”

Ladybird paused before finally smiling. “Yes, of course, mademoiselle.”

“Oh thank you!” Lila turned and walked away from the cart, to an alley where she perched on a box and watched the cart. 

Soon, Les Miraculeux had handed out all the gold, given most of the dresses to the village tailor, and passed out as much food as they had brought. As Ladybird settled in the seat beside the fox girl, Lila heard her say, “I wonder who that girl was. Adrien never mentioned her.”

“I mean, it’s no secret that Adrien’s clueless when it comes to girls. Maybe he thought they were just friends, but she thought something else. Either way, it doesn’t matter.” The fox lifted the reins and Ladybird glanced back once more before they rolled down the village path and out into the darkness. 

Lila stood and made note of the direction the cart left in. She stretched and moved to the door of the tavern, knowing how important rest would be in the coming days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, I'm going to try and post twice a week. Thanks for the kudos, hope y'all are enjoying it so far. Love and stuff.


	3. Rest in History

Despite the initial humiliation of Chloe’s arrival, she seemed to bounce back to her normal, arrogant self within the next few days. In order to cope with the incident, the marquis’s daughter had taken residence in the marvelous baths within Castle Agreste. 

Leaning against the smooth rock of the tub, Chloe lifted her fingers to the edge, where Sabrina reached out to tend her nails. The noblewoman sighed. “Can you believe it, Sabrina? Two years. Two years, my Adri-kins has been out in the country, suffering at the hands of peasants! I can’t believe no one told me!”

Sabrina held back a grin. Chloe’s father, the marquis of Paris, would surely have known about this, and bought everyone’s silence. This whole situation explained that dreadful day two years ago when he had sent his daughter and wife on a very sudden and very expensive trip, taking Sabrina with them. The handmaiden suspected the marquis was hiding something from his daughter, but nothing had been confirmed until Comte Agreste told the girls of Adrien’s true fate a few days ago.

Now that the truth was out, Sabrina knew Chloe would return to Paris to chastise her father and spend a few days crying in her room. Meanwhile, she herself could slip out and visit her family, and finally enjoy staying in one place for a while. 

“To think, that I was coming home early to surprise my betrothed when he’s actually been kidnapped this entire time! All thanks to that… What was her name again, Sabrina?”

“Ladybird. Ladybird and Les Miraculeux.”

“Exactly! Les-” Chloe suddenly froze in the water. “Wait, Les Miraculeux as in… the bandits?” She suddenly slammed the water with her fist, drawing Sabrina’s attention. “They’re the ones that kidnapped my Adri-kins?” 

Chloe stood and stepped out of the tub. Sabrina averted her gaze and held a towel up for the noblewoman. “My lady?”

“Ask the comte for some extra bags; expensive-looking bags, and fill them with hay. We’re going to lure those ruffians and when they attack, I’ll confront that… What was his name?”

“Chat Noir?”

“Yes! I’ll demand that Chat Noir and Ladybird give me my Adri-kins!” Chloe paced dramatically as she spoke to herself, dripping on the stone floor. “When I rescue him, he’ll be so grateful that he’ll have to marry me! It’s perfect! Sabrina, come along!”

The handmaiden sighed and followed suit, murmuring, “Yes, my lady.”

***

Fontainebleau Forest had been a quiet place until the bandits took up residence. The smaller beasts took shelter in the quiet, dark roots of the trees, hiding from the red falcon that patrolled in the daylight. Meanwhile, the larger and wilder creatures had retreated to the center of the forest, having learned long ago to finish their business before the sun set, for the night belonged to the black panther. 

Now, deep within the woods, a young doe moved through the trees, dipping her head to graze in the spots where the sun peeked through the leaves. A distant sound caused her to lift her head, freezing in place. As the doe listened, she recognized the sound of hoofbeats. She remained silent and still as the great black friesian thundered by in the distance, crashing through the underbrush.

Riding the friesian, hunkered down over the horse’s mane, sat a young man with sandy blonde hair and wild green eyes. He whipped the reins again, “Faster, Plagg, faster!”

The stallion snorted in annoyance but picked up speed, hooves pounding against the leaves of the  
forest floor. Horse and man became one as they ducked under branches, leapt over fallen logs. Ahead, they could see a patch of light and blue sky. 

Plagg finally jumped out into the open air, landing on the soft grass of the cliff top. He swerved to the right and halted, his energy drained. The rider dismounted and took Plagg’s bridle off, allowing the horse to graze beside him as he sat and gazed at the horizon. 

Below the cliff stretched the expanse of Fontainebleau Forest, and beyond the tree line, he could see the never ending swaths of farmland. In the far distance, the rider made out a spired castle. Thoughtlessly, his hand went to the gold medallion that hung around his neck.

His eyes turned skyward to see a flash of red; he lifted his arm and the falcon landed, sinking her talons into the thick glove he wore on his right hand. The bird ruffled its feathers, reaching up to pluck a twig out of his hair with its beak. 

The young man laughed and shook his head, causing a few leaves to fall around them. The bird chirped, and in response he said, “I know, I know.” He looked up to the distant castle. “I used to come home from my rides covered in scratches and leaves, and my father would be waiting on the staircase.” The blond looked at the falcon again and mocked Comte Agreste’s tone. “‘Adrien, what is the meaning of this? You look as though you’ve come back from a war. Next time you go riding, I’m sending a whole battalion with you, to make sure you don’t fall and break your neck.’” Adrien chuckled. “And then he’d go upstairs and disappear for three days.” His eyes rested on the horizon. “Fun times…”

The falcon, bored now, lifted its wings and took flight, swooping low over the dark green canopy. Adrien watched it fly away, sighing before he glanced back at his horse. “What do you think, Plagg? Do you think Marinette liked the dress?”

The horse ignored him, focused on grazing. 

“I hope she did. Ah, if she knew where I got it, she would have had my head!” He smiled to himself. “And to think, of all people to rob, Chloe Bourgeois. I haven’t seen her since we were kids.” Adrien paused. “I probably shouldn’t have taken her dress, though.”

Plagg snorted in the background. 

“I know she was being cruel, but still, I overreacted.” Adrien leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling the sun on his face. “You know, when we were really little, we would take baths together. But Chloe hated the water, so the second the nurses looked away, she would jump out and run down the halls naked.” The blond giggled. “My mother was the only one fast enough to catch her, but she was never angry.”

The wind ruffled his hair and Adrien opened his eyes, gazing listlessly at the view. The memory seemed so distant suddenly, across the open air and there, lost in that dark castle. After a moment, Adrien turned his attention to the ribbon of road that wound through the trees. He pulled out a spyglass and peered through, watching as a familiar coach left the castle gates and made its way back into Fontainebleau Forest.

Adrien stood and stretched. “I see you’re ready for round 2, Mademoiselle Bourgeois.” He hoisted himself into the saddle, much to Plagg’s annoyance. Adrien pulled the horse’s head up and faced the forest. “Come on, Plagg, claws out.”


	4. A Parley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love, and prepare for a lot of word play in this chapter! Love and stuff.

From within the forest, Nino and Alya lay on top of a large boulder, watching the marquis’s coach roll along in the distance. Only four of Agreste’s men had accompanied the carriage this time, while the marquis’s men were nowhere to be seen. 

The fox frowned. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Pulling down his hood, Nino shrugged. “The comte probably lied and told her Ladybird captured Adrien. Maybe Mademoiselle Bourgeois wants to parley for him.”

Alya shuddered. “I can’t believe Adrien was betrothed to that awful girl.”

“I say we hand him over just before sunset. Then we’ll see how eager she is to marry him.” The turtle laughed as Alya elbowed him in the ribs. “What?”

She shook her head as they watched the carriage go down the path. “Whatever she wants, it can’t be good.”

The coach turned the corner, entering the area where the robbery had taken place only a week earlier. From inside the carriage, a voice screamed, “Stop!”

The coachman pulled on the reins; once the vehicle was at rest, he scrambled to the ground, opening the door and lifting his hand to take Mademoiselle Bourgeois’s. The blonde girl stepped down on the dirt path, folding her white, gloved hands over her yellow gown as she surveyed the great, looming forest. She squinted into the darkness, but could make out no discernable shapes. 

Beside her, the coachman stepped forth and cried, “Mademoiselle Chloe, daughter of Marquis Bourgeois, would like to have a conference with the villain, Chat Noir!”

There was only silence from the trees. Chloe swatted at the coachman, who called out again, “Mademoiselle Chloe, daughter of Marquis Bourgeois, would like to have-”

A voice came from the brush. “We heard you the first time!”

Another voice called, “He won’t come out unless she says it!”

The coachman gaped at the trees before insisting, “Mademoiselle Bourgeois would never-”

Chloe stepped forward. “I request an audience with Chat Noir! Come out here now, before I send the guards in after you!”

The trees were still for a moment. A shadow moved from behind a tree and took form in front of her. Chat Noir stepped from the brush and approached, bowing comically before her. “I see you couldn’t stand being away from me, mademoiselle.”

Chloe held her head high, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here to trade with you.”

The cat smirked. “You misunderstand my profession. Robbery is generally one-sided.”

Chloe ignored his comment, indicating the carriage. “When I arrived at Comte Agreste’s castle, he reimbursed me for all of the items that you and your… friends deprived me of. Not only that, but I had access to his finest fabrics.” She fixed her blue eyes on him. “It’s all yours, if you give me what I want.”

“And what is that, mademoiselle?”

“I want you to release Adrien Agreste.”

There was a moment of silence. Chloe thought she saw a flicker of something behind Chat Noir’s mask, a fleeting expression that was gone before she could wonder what it might mean. 

Instead, the bandit laughed. “You are mistaken, mademoiselle; Adrien Agreste has been missing for-”

“Two years, I know.” She jutted her chin out. “I also know he was last seen with Les Miraculeux, and if you do not hand him over, there will be dire consequences!”

The cat considered her ferocity. “Very well, say we do have Adrien Agreste. Why hand him over to you?”

Chloe scoffed. “Because I am his betrothed, you ridiculous creature!”

“Ah, l’amour. And when was the last time you spoke to this sweetheart of yours?”

“It’s…” The noblewoman averted her gaze. “It’s been… a while.”

“Oh?” Chat Noir yawned and began to stretch. “Then how do you know this… Adrien still returns your affection? Or even remembers who you are?”

Chloe huffed. “That’s ridiculous! Of course he’ll remember me!”

“Will he?”

“Yes!”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“He will! At least, he should.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my best friend!” The noblewoman paused at her own words, taking a moment to taste them in her mouth. 

Chat Noir was still, his green eyes fixed as what Chloe had said sank in. 

Her voice was softer now as she corrected herself. “Was my best friend.” She struggled with her sincerity. “And… I… miss him. I miss him, and I want to know that he’s okay, that you ruffians haven’t brought him any harm.” She clenched her fist. “Even if he doesn’t remember me.”

There was a whoosh of air, and suddenly Chloe felt enveloped in black. She flinched as Chat Noir’s arms surrounded her, frozen in shock as he buried his face in her neck. The bandit embraced her only for a moment, before pulling back as he murmured, “Of course he remembers you.”

Before Chloe could say anything, she saw a shadow take shape beneath a tree. She squinted past the cat’s shoulder, making out the figure of one of Agreste’s guards, a crossbow in his hands. The arrow was nocked and aimed at Chat Noir’s back.

Chloe gasped and shoved him away, crying out, “No!”

The arrow sank into the wood of the doorframe, and Chat Noir whipped around. He guarded Chloe with his body, sword aimed towards the forest. 

The cat picked out the shadows and noted at least five guards. Twigs snapped from the forest on the other side of the coach and he knew there must be more. Behind the guards, Chat Noir saw Alya and Nino frozen in terror. He shook his head ever so slightly, knowing that even if they went to get reinforcements, Les Miraculeux would never reach the road in time. His friends paused, then nodded decisively and disappeared into the wilderness. 

One of the guards called, “Chat Noir, you are under arrest.”

Picking out more shapes, the bandit muttered to himself, “Don’t you mean under Agreste?” Louder, he yelled, “Very well, but your lordship must declaw me himself! Where is the comte?”

The guard who had spoken before called, “The comte is not here; he demanded we bring you to him.”

The cat scoffed and growled, “No surprise.” His expression swiftly recovered. “In that case, I have my own demands. That you let me go- Pardon, mademoiselle.” Chat Noir grabbed Chloe and pressed his blade gently to her throat. “Or Mademoiselle Bourgeois will be dispatched momentarily.”

Chloe gasped and hissed, “How dare you!”

Chat Noir whispered, “Shh, I’m bluffing.”

Another voice came from the guards, “Wait a minute, he’s bluffing!”

The first guard laughed, a cold sound. “Comte Agreste gave no orders regarding the wellbeing of the girl. You, however, are to be brought alive…” They heard the sound of arrows being nocked into crossbows. “Or dead.”

The noblewoman cried out, “What? No, you can’t kill me! Do you have any idea who my father is?”

The guard finally stepped out of the shadows, removing her helmet and standing before them. Her black hair was in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, a pair of glass spectacles sitting on the bridge of her nose. 

Chat Noir’s eyes narrowed in recognition as Chloe gasped, “Nicolette!”

“It’s Nathalie, you little wasp,” the woman scowled. She turned her attention to Chat Noir. “I’m here to trade with you.”

The cat scoffed, lowering his blade but keeping his grasp on Chloe. “What is it with you nobles? What part of ‘bandit’ don’t you understand?”

“Give me Adrien Agreste, and I will let you and Mademoiselle Bourgeois live.”

Chat Noir searched her cold gaze. “Say I choose to bargain?”

“Then you choose to die.” 

The forest loomed tall and silent around them. There would be no reinforcements. The cat pulled Chloe behind him, weighing his options. 

Nathalie sighed and removed her rapier, aiming the tip of the blade at Chat Noir’s heart. “Clock’s ticking, chaton.”

His eyes flickered up at the word, seeking the red flash. Quickly, he returned his focus to Nathalie, but she had already seen and was now looking skyward. She smiled grimly. “Oh, that’s right. How is the little beast?”

Chat Noir clenched his fist. “Leave the falcon out of this.”

“Why? It’s just a dumb animal.” She leaned forward. “But then again, so are you.”

Growling, the bandit lunged, but Nathalie parried with ease. Her riposte sought his heart, her blade thrusting towards him. 

There was a hiss of air, and Nathalie cried out. She stared down at the arrow lodged in her hand, horrified. 

Around them, the guards turned their eyes to the trees. A girl’s voice echoed as she giggled, singing, “You can’t see me.”

Chat Noir turned to Chloe and shoved her inside the open door of the coach, pulling it shut behind them. She cowered on the floor while the cat pulled out a small dagger and worked at the hinges of both doors. Meanwhile, arrows pelted the thick wood, tearing through the fabric curtains.

The noblewoman screeched, “What are you doing?”

Another voice came from under a seat, “Yes, what are you doing?” Sabrina popped her head out, and Chat Noir sighed at the further complication. 

He managed to pry off another hinge. “I’m doing what my Ladybird would do.” Chat Noir ducked as an arrow whizzed over his head. “I hope.”

The guards closed their circle on the coach, dropping their crossbows as they drew their swords. Above them, Nathalie heard a familiar screech, and she pointed at one guard with her good hand. “Don’t put your crossbow down! Aim it at that falcon!”

Dipping low over the brush, the red bird screamed as it dodged the arrow, talons open and aimed at the guard closest to the arrow-covered coach. The falcon’s talons raked over the guard’s eyes and he fell to his knees, screaming.

Inside the coach, Chat Noir grabbed the inner handle of one door. He shoved his weight against the opening, causing the wood to break free from the hinge in a makeshift shield. Chat Noir pulled Chloe up and placed her fingers on the handle. “Mademoiselle, on the count of three, you are going to push that shield out and start running. Do you understand?”

Chloe stared up at Chat Noir. “What? I can’t-”

“You can.” He gripped her arms. “You can, and you will.”

The noblewoman shook for a moment, but then nodded. Chat Noir grabbed Sabrina and sandwiched the handmaiden between him and Chloe. He reached up and grabbed the rod of the curtain over the opposite door, taking a deep breath as he crouched. “Une-”

The coach shuddered and Chloe screeched, “Trois!” and shoved. 

Chat Noir lifted his feet and kicked the door into the guards entering from the other side of the coach. He fell back on Chloe and Sabrina, who held the shield up as they stumbled towards the forest. Chat Noir regained his balance quickly, protecting their flank as he swung his sword through the air, ducking and parrying. 

They pushed through the crowd, and when they approached the edge of the road, the guards closed in again. “Go, go!” Chat Noir yelled, glancing back as they neared the forest. “Get to the trees!”

Chloe stumbled blindly forward. The falcon cried out above them, dodging another arrow and swooping low to scratch at the guards’ helms. 

Finally, the trees shrouded them. Chat Noir sighed in relief, turning. The edge of the road sloped off onto a hill that angled down and into the brush. The girls hesitated and Chat Noir pressed his body weight against them, forcing them to fall on the door. “Hold on!”

Chloe and Sabrina screamed and clutched each other, gazing down the incline. Chat Noir leapt on the edge of the piece of wood, trying to aim as they sledded down the steep slope that led into the forest. Behind them, he could hear the guards cursing as they stumbled, unable to get a solid foothold on the hill. 

After a few moments, the piece of wood suddenly dipped and the three crashed down a small bank, into a stream that was more mud than water. Immediately, Chat Noir rose and pulled the girls along the ravine. They ran until they found a tree whose roots jutted out over the bank and created a small cave. The three dove inside and huddled together, panting, waiting to see if they would be followed. 

Minutes passed. They heard the guards calling, heard the retreat and the rumble of the coach. Soon, there was silence from above, and Chat Noir finally relaxed, bowing his head in exhaustion. Beside him, Chloe whimpered as she gazed down at her yellow, lacy gown, now covered in mud, “My dress! My beautiful dress!” She threw her hands in the air. “And Comte Agreste will never let me use his baths again, not after this! Not after he was willing to have me-” She blinked and then fell apart into sobs. “He was going to have me killed!”

From above them, they heard a voice. “Ah, here you are.”

All three gawked as a cloaked figure jumped into the ravine, peering into their makeshift hideout. She had long brown hair, grey eyes, and her cloak was painted with brown and green patches. 

Chat Noir crawled out and surveyed the newcomer. “Camouflage,” he noted of the cape. The cat also noticed the bow in her hand and smiled. “And from the look of that, it seems you’re our rescuer.”

The girl nodded, removing her hood. “My name is Lila.”

“And I’m Chat Noir, though you probably knew that.” He bowed. “Thank you, mademoiselle, for saving our lives.”

“It is I who should be thanking you, Chat Noir.” Lila grinned and leaned on her bow. “I have heard tell of the great outlaw gang, Les Miraculeux, and their fearless leader. I know of your great deeds, your compassion and generosity. In my country, we herald you as a hero, bandit king.”

The cat smiled. “I’m flattered, mademoiselle, but my Ladybird is our true leader.” He winked. “I’m more of her right hand man.”

As Chloe and Sabrina rose from their hideout, Lila looked them all over. “I was actually on my way to offer my services to Les Miraculeux. I’m a hunter, you see; an expert marksman who was hoping to give back any way I could. I have been traveling for months to find your camp. Instead, I stumbled across your little… situation.”

“And it was lucky for us you did, mademoiselle.” Chat Noir glanced at the trees. “The camp… I must get back.” He turned to them. “All of you are welcome to come with me; I know you may not have the best opinion of Les Miraculeux, Mademoiselle Bourgeois, but I promise that we’re much more charming when we’re not robbing you.”

Chloe did not speak but Sabrina nodded. The cat turned to go, but Lila put her hand on his shoulder. “Signore, I do not mean to be rude, but there is something I must make sure of before I travel with you.”

“Of course, mademoiselle, ask away.”

“Though I have only heard good things in my country, here I see wanted posters hanging around the villages. Tell me, Chat Noir, why it is that the posters claim you have kidnapped the comte’s son? His name… Oh what was it? ...Adrien?”

There was a moment of silence, when the marquis’s daughter let out a short, harsh laugh. “Yes, Chat Noir.” Chloe glared at him in triumph. “Did you kidnap Adrien Agreste?”

Chat Noir looked them all in the eye, pondering the question. Finally, he sighed and bowed his head. “I almost lost my life today. If it were not for your combined efforts, I would be dead now, or imprisoned.” He paused, and then turned to Chloe directly. “And you… You deserve to know the truth.”

“What-”

The cat reached up and removed the black mask.


	5. À Vrai Dire

Circling in the sky. Forest below. No more yelling. No more steel. Orange. I see orange. I dive.

Down through the trees. I call, “Kee kee kee!” Through the tents. Landing on the cart. The girl… the fox? She approaches. “Kee kee kee!”

She makes noises. I lift my wings. Flap, flap, flap. Landing on a branch. This way. They’re this way, fox. She understands. 

The camp moves to follow me. I chirp. Flap, flap, flap, to the next branch. He’s this way.

***

To all’s surprise, it was Sabrina who made the first sound. Her laugh rang out in the quiet forest, rising above the group. Lila managed to regain her composure, but Adrien’s eyes were not on her. He watched as Chloe gaped for a few more seconds before turning to Sabrina and hissing, “Silence!”

The handmaiden clapped a hand over her mouth, tears threatening at her eyes as she giggled out an apology. Chloe turned back to Adrien, her lips pursed. 

“I don’t… You…” The noblewoman spat out a few more words, but finally settled on, “Why?”

Adrien sighed. “It’s… a long story.” His eyes lifted to the trees, analyzing the light that filtered through. “It would be best if I told you on the way to the camp.” He turned and climbed out of the riverbank, turning to Chloe and offering his hand. 

She hesitated, and then lifted her hand to his and let herself be pulled up. Adrien helped the other two girls as well, and the four began the long walk back.

The bandit leader thought for a moment before beginning his story. “You remember, Chloe, when my mother died?”

Picking her way through the thicket, the noblewoman nodded to herself. How could she forget; it was the last time she had seen Adrien. He had been wearing all black then as well, but his face had been rounder, his eyes still alight with the soft glow of youth. The Adrien that trekked beside her was taller, hardened by pain, with a wildness about him. 

He continued as she searched his face. “Well, my father refused to remarry, which meant that I was his only heir. As such, he wanted to make sure nothing ever happened to me. I was grateful, and I still am, because he kept me safe but..” He lifted a branch and the three girls ducked under. “Well, nothing ever happened to me.

“Years went by and as I grew older, my father came out of his tower less frequently. He worked day and night on the only thing he knew; fashion. And he was good at it; I would debut his designs at our masquerades, which your mother attended, Chloe.”

She sneered at the thought. For years, her parents refused to send her to Comte Agreste’s masquerades, considering the parties to be too mature for a proper young lady. 

Adrien saw her face and smiled. “Don’t worry, you weren’t missing out. I would have to stand for hours, being gawked over by people who were twice, three times my age. Of course, my father spared no expense; the food was always spectacular, all guests adhering to a strict dress code, barrels of wine brought up from the cellars.” He paused. “For years, I had no idea... No comprehension of the price that came with the parties.”

Chloe frowned. “Oh?”

“The people, Chloe. You see, the crown favored my father and was willing to ignore the steadily   
rising price of his taxes.” He clenched his fist. “Our villages fell into debt, families going hungry while we lived in splendor. And I, trapped in my gilded cage, I never even knew how much our people suffered.”

Presently, they arrived at the steep slope that ascended to the road. The four were mostly silent as they helped each other scale the hill. When they reached the top, Adrien peered out into the clearing, assuring that Chloe’s carriage and Comte Agreste’s men were gone. He indicated that it was safe to go forward, and they crossed the road and entered the forest once again. 

Adrien continued. “I had many personal tailors, but my favorite was a girl named Marinette. Her parents worked in the castle kitchens as bakers, creating the expensive desserts for our masquerades.

“At first, Marinette seemed displeased with me; I soon learned why. She often traveled through the villages buying the fabrics for my clothes, and she had seen first hand how my people suffered. One night, she helped me escape, disguising me and showing me the true price of wealth. The starving families, the urchins in the streets; people who had trusted the comte to take care of them, only to be ignored in favor of the rich. When I returned, I tried to talk to my father, but he kept putting me off, and when I did confront him, he disregarded me. 

“Then Marinette came up with an idea. She and I would take the excess of my father’s wealth; the breads to be thrown away, the fabrics that didn’t suit him, and whatever money we could find. Together, we’d dress in disguises and ride out to the villages and help those in need.”

Adrien smiled. “She took it a step further, offering to sew clothes for those who could not afford fabric or had no time to make it themselves.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking of the nights when she worked too hard and fall asleep in his armchair. He would bring a blanket over, watching her serene face as she slept; sometimes, when he was lucky, she would let out a loud snore and almost wake herself up, but ultimately drift off again. Adrien chuckled to himself. 

Lila cleared her throat. “And so this is how you became Chat Noir?”

He returned to reality, ducking before he ran into a low hanging branch. “Yes, at first. As we continued our work, others started approaching us. The children of the townspeople started offering their various services, inspired by our deeds. Soon they would travel with us, adopting their own costumes and disguises to protect their identities. We carried on this way for nearly 2 years.”

Sabrina asked quietly, “What happened? What made you finally run away?”

Adrian hesitated. “As the day of my 18th birthday approached, I knew my father was going to insist that I find a bride. I knew that with marriage would come a lack of freedom, and I was afraid.”

Chloe looked away, trying to hide her disappointment. 

Adrien noticed her expression but said nothing about it. Instead he said, “There was one night my father came to discuss the details, but he caught me just as I was sneaking back in. Furious, he put me under house arrest, insisting that he would throw a masquerade where I would announce my bride.

“All felt lost, but Marinette had one final plan. That night, when she came to tell me, my father entered the room and found us…” Adrien sighed. “ The guards seized her and threw her in the dungeon. I felt so guilty for getting her involved in the first place.

“I realize that if I didn’t do something, I would always regret it. So I went to the falconry and got a message to my friends. I packed a satchel of clothes and rescued Marinette. We had to fight our way out, but eventually we were free. At least so we thought.”

Lila gave him a questioning look and Adrien explained, “My father’s men continue to hunt us down to this day, though he himself has never left the castle.” 

Chloe moved to walk beside Adrien. “But Adri-kins, once we were married I would’ve let you do whatever you wanted. If we go back together, we can explain this whole mess to your father and we’ll make him understand.”

Adrien paused, his green eyes almost apologetic as he looked at her. Slowly, he removed the glove in his left hand, reaching out to Chloe so she could see the black band on his ring finger. 

“I’m sorry Chloe,” he murmured. “But my heart belongs to Marinette.” 

The noblewoman looked away, refusing to let him see the burning in her eyes. 

Sabrina piped up, “But monsieur, when you robbed us there was no sign of Ladybird or Marinette.”

Adrien nodded. “I’m afraid as long as my father sends out his guards to find us, both of our lives are in danger. The night when he came to my room, he saw us exchanging the rings. I’m certain that’s what he really wants, but if he gets my ring and destroys it then… All hope is lost.”

The four silently pondered this fact, when suddenly a bright kee kee kee sound broke through the trees. Adrien’s eyes lit up and it was as if all the tension in his body had been released. He scrambled on top of the nearest boulder, waving his arms frantically. “Here! We’re over here!”

The outlaw gang ran to meet the ragged crew. Chloe and Sabrina remained silent, uncertain of their fate as the bandits surrounded them, though Lila seemed unintimidated. It was the turtle that first ran forward and threw his arms around Adrien. “You escaped!”

The blond grinned and held his friend at arm’s length. “Don’t I always?”

Chloe averted her eyes as the girl who dressed as a fox stepped forth, considering the muddy noblewoman. “And you brought… hostages?”

“Not hostages.” Adrien placed a hand on Chloe’s shoulder, which comforted her. “Friends.”

The outlaws eyed the noblewoman carefully. Finally, the fox girl stuck out her hand. Chloe stared at the extension, uncertain, but then lifted her own hand. The brunette grasped Chloe’s forearm and grinned. “My name is Alya. No harm will come to you here.”

One of the bandits came forward, her blonde hair cut short, a necklace hanging around her throat. Chloe recognized the jewelry as one from her own personal collection, a gold chain with a pink rose pendant. The small girl smiled shyly at Chloe, holding out a cloak. “I’m… sorry about the other day, mademoiselle.” 

Chloe eyed her, then accepted the cloak. “That necklace…”

The smaller girl squeaked. “Oh! That’s right, here, I was only borrowing-”

“No, keep it.” Chloe pulled the cloak tight around her shoulders. “It suits you better.” She felt Adrien’s eyes on her and suddenly sniffed arrogantly. “Not to mention it’s dreadfully out of season.”

Blinking up at her with large blue eyes, the girl hesitated. “Oh… well, thank you, mademoiselle.”

Introductions were made all around as the group trekked back to the camp, the light fading around them. Chloe noticed Adrien looking wildly from left to right, as if afraid of something in the forest. The bandit who dressed as a turtle trotted to the blond’s side, holding his arm out.

Adrien removed his belt, mask, and cat ears, handing the items over to the turtle. “Thanks, Nino,” he murmured.

Nino grinned. “Of course, chaton.”

The blond rolled his eyes, but stopped suddenly. He twitched, then hissed as a sharp pain racked his body. Before Chloe could react, Adrien had turned and sprinted into the forest. 

Nino turned and saw her staring. He shrugged. “Afraid of the dark.”

She nodded thoughtfully, a memory stirring. When they were children, Adrien often insisted they play hide and seek in the comte’s grand but empty castle. He would sneak her into forbidden rooms, giving her one candle while he took a bell. She would prowl around in the darkness, listening for the ringing while her eyes squinted in the dim candlelight. Chloe came to loathe the game, especially when he snuck up on her.

“Afraid,” she echoed. “Yes, I… I forgot.”


	6. In the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I totally forgot that italics don't translate so it was unclear whether it's an animal or a human talking? Anyway, italics are animals. My bad. Also get ready for a long chapter.

_The moon hangs high above me when I return to the camp. The fire is gone, the smell of smoke lingering in the air. I prowl around the tents, the bedrolls. There are newcomers, each with their own scent. But I follow her smell. I go up, up to the rock where she sleeps. _

Shrouded in the sheepskins, Marinette slumbered peacefully. Her body was sore and she didn’t know why. But with sleep came dreams, and in her mind, Marinette was back in Adrien’s chambers, sitting in an armchair and embroidering an orange tunic in her lap. The soft glow of firelight lit up the large room, igniting the threads in the woven rug on the floor. Across from her, Adrien sat the edge of a chaise, carving a piece of wood.

Marinette looked up and asked, “What are you making?”

“A cane,” Adrien answered, examining the object. “For the goldsmith; you remember? The little man from the East?”

“Oh, yes.” Marinette watched him for a moment. She broke the memory, as she always did, changing the story in her dream state. She set the embroidery aside. Standing, she approached Adrien, stopping in front of him. 

The blond looked up, a smile on his lips. “What is it, Marinette?”

She lifted her hand. Adrien took it.

_Though she’s buried beneath the skins, I can smell her. The only part of her I see is her paw, long and white and slender. I lean down and lick at her fingers. _

He pressed his lips to her knuckles. The kiss was wetter than she had thought it would be. Adrien looked up at her, his green eyes searching her face.

_Her hand twitches. I butt her fingers with my head, purring._

The fire rumbled beside them. Or… was it the fire? Marinette frowned as Adrien closed his eyes, pressing his head to her hand and purring.

No. No, not again. Marinette reached under his chin and lifted his face. He opened his eyes, and they were no longer human. 

_There is another scent near her, faint. I sniff at her fingers. Something is missing. _

Marinette backed away as Adrien stood, snarling. 

_The scent is foreign and I snarl. Turn away from her, from my… my… something. I follow the scent towards the forest. _

“Please, Adrien,” she murmured. “Please…” The blond pounced on her.

Marinette jolted awake, pulling her hand in from the cold. Her breath slowed as she held her own fingers, feeling how cold and wet they were. She paused, running her hand along her ring finger. 

“Alya!” Marinette threw off the sheepskins, shivering as she grabbed the red robe. 

From a tent close by, she heard a muffled, “What?”

Throwing the robe around her shoulders, Marinette stood and ran to Alya’s tent, opening the flap and staring in at her. “My ring. My ring is gone.

***

The moon was almost full, offering more than enough light for Lila to pick her way through the wilderness. In her pocket, her fingers pressed against the small circlet. She had been surprised at how easily the ring slipped off Adrien’s slender fingers. The body under the sheepskins had to be him, since everyone else at the camp was sleeping and accounted for. 

Lila made her way to the road, wondering at how quiet this forest was at night. Had she been an animal, she would have understood from the smells and the scratches on the trees, the large pawprints in the dirt. 

Despite her triumph, she had a sick feeling in her stomach. Lila paused, then ducked behind a boulder. She knew no one had seen her, knew no one could follow her, but she wanted to be safe. The girl pulled out her flint and steel, gathering a patch of dry tinder. She struck a few times and a small flame began to dance before her.

Lila pulled out the ring, frowning in the dim light. The band was not the black one Adrien had been wearing; this band was a crimson red. 

Above her, a snarl fell down the rock, rumbling through her and turning her veins to ice. Lila lifted her gaze to the beast, the green eyes with pupils slitted in the light. The panther perched on the boulder, watching as she closed her fingers over the red band. The cat snarled again. 

In the distance, she heard voices. Lila cursed quietly, mind racing as the panther lowered its body. Beneath her, the tinder was burning up. As the darkness settled in again, she saw the gleam of fangs, the cat’s pupils growing larger until there was only black. 

She ran. Lila clutched the ring in her hand, leaping over fallen logs and ducking under branches. Behind her, she heard the pursuit of the black cat, and farther behind came the voices. Lila glanced back to see torchlight. 

As she looked away from her path, her foot caught on a tree root and she fell. The ring fell from her palm, the arrows in her quiver clattering out over the tangled forest floor. She rolled over as she saw the black shadow pounce. Her hand dug around her, searching desperately through the roots and leaves. Her fingers clasped around an arrow. The cat’s paws landed on her shoulders and she lifted the weapon and plunged the tip deep into the black fur.

The panther screamed and rolled off of her. Lila scrambled to her feet and ran, leaving the ring and her arrows behind as she sprinted through the trees and towards the road.

Alya was the first to see the cat. She gasped and knelt, removing her cape as the black panther snarled, blood dripping from the arrow in its shoulder. The brunette murmured softly, “It’s okay, you’re okay, it’s just a little stab wound…”

Behind her, Marinette came into the light. She knelt beside Alya, her fingers trembling as she reached for the cat. Tears sprang to her eyes and she whimpered, “No, no, chaton…” She touched the feathers of the arrow. 

Alya grabbed Marinette’s hand. “He’s alright, but we can’t take the arrow out yet. The barb will tear his flesh.” She placed the cape on the ground, calling back, “Nino! I need you!”

Marinette moved aside, watching as Alya and Nino wrapped the cat in the cape. Her blue eyes turned to the dark forest, seeking movement. In the firelight, she saw a red flicker on the ground. She dipped her fingers into the leaves and lifted the ring, placing the red circle back on her finger. 

She turned to see Nino hoist the wrapped panther, turning and carrying the beast back to the camp. Marinette glanced at the darkness once more, and then followed. 

***

Chloe stirred with the rest of the camp, poking her head out of her tent as the figures moved outside. She watched as Nino, Alya, and a girl she did not recognize crowded around a bundle. The noblewoman grabbed a cape and approached, trying to be quiet. 

The three did not notice her. She peered over their shoulders to see what was wrapped in the cape, alarmed to see blood and a great black beast. The cat chuffed once, growling softly at her.

Chloe backed away. She looked around wildly, her eyes resting on the bundle of Adrien’s items that Nino had taken from him in the forest. She grabbed the rapier, unsheathing the weapon. The hiss of steal drew the attention of the three crouching in front of her, and they turned to stare down the blade into Chloe’s seering eyes. “What is that?”

The three exchanged glances. Alya spoke, “It’s… we found it in the forest.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know there’s something going on here that you’re not telling me.”

The girl wearing the red robe squinted at her in the torchlight. “I don’t believe we’ve met, mademoiselle, you are..?”

Ignoring her, Chloe’s arms trembled at the weight of the rapier. “Where’s Adrien?”

The three remained silent. Nino murmured, “We can’t tell you.”

“You can. You can and you will.”

Alya sighed. “Please put the sword down and stop-”

“No, you stop!” The noblewoman’s voice rose in volume. “First, you rogues ambush me, rob me, then humiliate me by sending me to the castle of my betrothed in my chemise! When I get there, I find that not only is my betrothed not home, but that he’s been missing for years! And no one told me, not even my parents!

“Then when I try to play hero, my life is threatened by the men who swore to protect me, and it becomes clear that I am just a pawn in the comte’s sick game!” Chloe was shaking now. “To top it all off, my beloved is the very man who robbed me in the first place! And he has chosen someone else to be his bride!” 

Her wet eyes flickered to Marinette, who met her gaze. “I know there’s something happening here. I’m tired of being kept in the dark, I’m tired of secrets!” Tears threatened her eyes. “You’re just like everyone else! You all think I’m some rich, spoiled brat who can’t handle the truth! Well, you know what, I may be rich and spoiled but at least I’m not a liar!”

All was quiet. Finally, Marinette stood, eyeing Chloe carefully. “Your name… is Chloe, isn’t it?”

The noblewoman wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, nodding curtly. “And you’re Marinette.”

The girl in red considered her for a moment, before murmuring, “Adrien spoke of you often.”

The blonde froze, her eyes wide. “He… he did? Well, of course he did!” She paused. “What… what did he say?”

“He told me that you were his best friend growing up. He also said that as a child, you hated baths.” Marinette approached her slowly. “And you were afraid of the dark, but you would never admit it to him. He said you never admitted to being afraid, even when your voice shook and your hands trembled.”

Chloe watched her, but made no move to attack.

“I also know that if you’re here, he must have told you the truth, which means he trusts you.” She placed her fingers on the tip of the blade. “Which means that I trust you.”

From beside the cat, Alya and Nino tensed and held their breath, waiting to see what Chloe would do. The noblewoman eyed Marinette. “Then… you’ll tell me the truth?”

“Yes. I swear by the sky.”

Slowly, the rapier lowered until the blade touched the soft earth.

Marinette took a deep breath and said, “You… you might want to sit down for this.”

***

In one of the towers of Castle Agreste, Nathalie sat in an armchair, staring into the fireplace. She watched the flames dance, her wounded hand bandaged and resting in her lap.

Across from her sat the comte, also gazing into the fire. He rubbed at his temples, then spoke. “I don’t understand. Our plan was perfect; the Bourgeois girl would lure those bandits right into our trap. You had him surrounded, and yet somehow…” He rose from the chair, hands behind his back as he approached Nathalie. “One man, with no reinforcements and no hope for escape…” He loomed over her now, and she found herself trembling. “Managed to slip through your fingers.”

Nathalie averted her eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry, my lord. It won’t happen again.”

The comte reached out and placed two fingers under her chin, lifting her face so she could meet his gaze. “No. It won’t.”

There was a knock at the door. A guard slipped through and said, “My lord, there is someone here to see you.”

Comte Agreste waved his hand dismissively. “I asked not to be disturbed.”

“She said it was urgent, my lord. She claims that she knows the true identity of Chat Noir.”

The comte paused, looking into the fire as he thought. “Send her in.”

The guard moved aside and a young woman with long brown hair and grey eyes stepped through. She was draped in a green and brown cape, her boots covered in mud; she bowed. “Comte Agreste, we finally meet.”

“You speak as if you are a person of value to me.”

She smiled slyly. “I can only hope to be, my lord. My name is Lila, and I-”

“I am not interested in your name.” Comte Agreste turned away from her and folded his hands behind his back. “There is only one name I am interested in, and that is the true identity of Chat Noir.”

Lila paused. “You already know, don’t you?”

“I can’t imagine what you mean.”

“I mean no disrespect, my lord, but I am not here to play games.”

The comte sighed impatiently. “If you are not going to talk, then I shall send the guards-”

“Very well.” Lila cocked her head to the side, smirking. “I killed him for you.”

Comte Agreste jolted, turning his head to survey her once more. There was a flicker of panic in his eyes, which Lila caught before he regained his composure. “You… killed him?”

Lila laughed. “No, my lord. I do, however, find it interesting to see such compassion from you for a common criminal.” She held up her fingers, examining her nails for dirt. “I did have the opportunity to kill him many times today, and yet, I chose not to.” Her eyes flitted to the comte’s face, firelight dancing in her grey irises. “I could, however, rescind that decision should you not comply with my demands.”

The comte considered her for a moment. “My men have been unable to capture him for years. What makes you more capable an assassin than them?”

“Because I know where he’s hiding. I know where all of Les Miraculeux are hiding, and I’m willing to give them to you.” She grinned. “For a price.”

There was silence in the room. Comte Agreste took a deep breath. “What is your price?”

“I want to marry your son. I want to become the Comtesse Agreste, and rule over your lands, and keep Adrien protected and safe within these walls.”

The comte exchanged glances with Nathalie, who nodded ever so slightly. He eyed Lila once more before he let out a cold laugh. He indicated the empty armchair beside him and said, “Lila, was it? Sit. Let’s talk, ma belle-fille.”


	7. The Real Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are y'all into this? Like, let me know if you're not digging these vibes. Anyway, this chapter's real short.

Chloe’s outburst had awoken the outlaws, but now as the night wore on again they returned to their tents. Soon, the only persons who remained were Chloe, Marinette, Nino, Alya, and the black panther who lay wounded beside the cart. 

Nino set another log on the campfire, reviving the small flame so the group could huddle around the warmth. Behind him, the women sat on a fallen log; Chloe was relaying the information Adrien had told her. 

“And then he said you escaped, but that you weren’t really free, because the comte is still hunting you.” She glanced towards the resting panther. “But he never mentioned that… beast.”

Marinette nodded thoughtfully, wondering where to begin. “I see… Well, Adrien did leave out… a couple of important details.” She took a deep breath and said, “When we escaped, we were so certain that freedom was ours. Alya, Nino, and the others met us outside the castle, and together we all ran into the forest. Dawn was on the horizon when we finally stopped; all of us were exhausted and dirty, yet so relieved that none of it mattered. The truth was I could have lost an arm that day and it still would have been the happiest day of my life.

“Then the sun rose.” She closed her eyes. “When the light came through the trees, I suddenly felt this sharp pain. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before; like my bones were too small for my body, like my skin was being pricked with a thousand quills. I collapsed on the ground while Adrien knelt beside me, helpless. I remember reaching up to him…” Marinette lifted her hand, opening her eyes to look at her fingers in the firelight. “And instead of fingers, there were red feathers.”

The group was silent for a moment. Chloe let out a soft, “Oh…”

Marinette nodded. “When I woke up, I was in an unfamiliar area of the forest. I was lying in a bed of leaves, naked and alone, staring up at the twilit trees. My entire body was sore, as if I had been doing something I had never done before. Slowly, painfully, I rose and stood, confused. I heard a growl behind me, and I turned to face a great black panther.

“The beast snarled at me; I picked up a stick to defend myself. A voice came from the darkness, and a small man emerged. I recognized him as a goldsmith that we had befriended, named Master Fu. He called to me again, this time in Chinese. My mother is from the East, so I responded this time. The goldsmith smiled and handed me a long, red robe, reassuring me that everything was going to be alright. I looked around for the panther, but the beast had disappeared into the darkness. 

“Master Fu took me back to his home, offering me a cup of tea as he explained. Though his main trade was jewelry, Master Fu had once been a mage. He had traveled the world helping those in need by providing potions and enchanted objects. After a hundred years or so, he decided to settle outside of the Fontainebleau Forest, where he could live out the rest of his days as a goldsmith. 

“The comte was one of his favorite customers, since he needed jewelry for all his fashion designs. But when the comtesse died, Comte Agreste appeared at the door and said he knew that Master Fu was a mage. He demanded that the goldsmith use his magic to bring the comtesse back. 

“Master Fu refused, knowing that resurrection was dark magic. Furious, the comte raided all of his wares and stole every magical object within his grasp. For years, the goldsmith heard nothing from the isolated Comte Agreste, until his son appeared at the door one day with a small notebook. Adrien held out the book, saying he had read the name inside and wanted to return the stolen piece to it’s master. 

“We had been friends with him ever since; it was Master Fu who made our rings.” Marinette smiled to herself. “Apparently, Adrien had them made months before he showed them to me.” She paused, twisting the band on her finger, before returning to the story. 

“When Adrien asked for the rings, Master Fu had secretly enchanted them so that as long as we wore them, we would be safe from Comte Agreste. But he had forgotten that when an object becomes enchanted, other magic users can sense its power.

“Therefore, when the comte had seen Adrien and I exchanging the rings, he knew they were magic.” She rubbed at her arm, thinking of how the guards had seized her and dragged her screaming from the room. “I suppose that’s why he didn’t have me killed on the spot.

“Adrien took the rings back before rescuing me, but not before the comte had cursed them. Once Adrien realized there was something wrong, he went straight to Master Fu. The goldsmith recognized the curse, though he was impressed that the comte could pull it off.”

Chloe leaned in. “And?”

Marinette steeled her gaze. “By day, I would become the red falcon while Adrien remained human. And by night…” She turned to look at the black panther. 

Beside her, Alya and Nino bowed their heads. Chloe looked at them all, thinking. “Some mage. He didn’t even tell you how to break the curse.”

Marinette laughed dryly. “Unfortunately, because the rings were already enchanted, Master Fu couldn’t tamper with them further. If he did, we could both end up as beasts forever.” She looked down at her fingers. “For now, we’ve learned to live with the curse. We’ve remained in the forest, away from prying eyes but close enough to Adrien’s people. He refused to abandon them to his father. For two years, we’ve been robbing the comte’s guests, hoping to draw him out, but he stays in his castle.”

The four were silent for a long moment, watching as the fire started to die out once more. Chloe yawned, and Marinette smiled at her. “You need your rest, mademoiselle. You’ve had a long day.”

Chloe grumbled, rising from her spot on the log. She moved to the edge of the firelight, glancing back as Nino and Alya returned to their tent. Marinette went and sat beside the black panther, who put his head on her lap. The girl in red smiled sadly down at her beast. 

The noblewoman paused for a moment, and then pressed the flap aside and entered her tent.


	8. Transforme Moi

Alya found her dreams troubled with recurring nightmares. Her latest involved a harsh beam of light, and looking down at her feet only to find fox paws. 

She bolted upright before light had touched the world. Alya put a hand on her racing heart, lifting the blanket and throwing a cape over her shoulders. She stepped out into the camp, squinting in the twilight. Soft blue mist lay in a blanket through the site, shrouding the bases of the tents. Near the edge of the camp sat the cart, and beneath it, Alya could make out the shape of Marinette curled up next to the panther on a thick wool blanket.

Quietly, Alya approached the sleeping couple and hid, peering out from behind the corner of the cart. Despite herself, the curse fascinated her. She had only witnessed the transformation a few times; the experience looked painful. 

Alya waited a few moments, breathing in the morning air. She shifted her weight and a twig snapped under her foot. 

Marinette stirred at the sound, humming as she returned to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled sadly at the panther. She reached up to touch the cat’s ears. 

A shudder ran through them; Alya glanced up to see light touching the tops of the trees. She crouched, watching as the cat opened his eyes, his pupils large and black in the dim light. 

Laying beside each other, the two figures spasmed. Marinette stared helplessly at the panther. Slowly, slowly, the beast’s black eyes retreated behind a green iris. The black fur covering his face began to dissipate, blond locks appearing around the shifted ears. He blinked and his eyes became knowing, human. 

Alya held her breath as for one, blissful moment, the couple met each other’s gaze, human and whole and together. 

Adrien lifted his hand towards Marinette, fingers trembling. 

A harsh kee kee broke through the morning air. The red falcon flapped her wings, freed from the confines of the crimson robe. The creature leapt into the air, calling again as she flew through the camp and disappeared into the trees. 

Adrien reached out desperately, crying out in pain as Lila’s arrow dug into his right shoulder. Alya ran from her hiding spot, kneeling beside him and placing her hands on the compress. 

“Shh,” she murmured, watching the blood trickle down his arm. “You were wounded; we had to wait until morning, but you must lie still.”

The bandit whipped his head around to face her, a gleam of something inhuman in his green eyes as he let out a low snarl. Alya gasped and fell back. Adrien recognized her fear and forced himself to relax, taking a deep breath. He glanced at the arrow in his shoulder. 

The fox considered him carefully. “Adrien? Is that you?”

He met her gaze. “You know, I’ve heard of having a chip on my shoulder, but this is ridiculous.”

Alya sighed. “Yeah, it’s you.”

The healer set Adrien with his back against a tree, turning to go wake Nino for assistance. The blond lay quiet, looking up through the leaves at the faint morning light. Physically, he was human again, but his mind always took a little longer to change back. Adrien tried not to focus on the smells, the sweat and leather and the horses and… Something else? Something….

He bolted upright, wincing at the pain. Adrien reached out and grabbed Alya’s arm. “We need to leave. Now.”

She gave him a quizzical look; a branch snapped behind them and Adrien tucked his arms, rolling under the cart. Alya turned quickly, staring at the row of figures that melted from the trees, their weapons glinting in the sunlight. Above them, the falcon screamed. 

The comte’s soldiers shouted together in a loud roar, charging through the camp and tearing down tents, kicking over barrels and supplies. The sleepy bandits were dragged out and thrown to the ground.

A few of the thieves grabbed their weapons and fought back. Alya heard Alix’s war cry as the small girl hoisted her knives, running at a soldier. She thrust the knife towards his throat, but the man caught her by the wrist and twisted, causing her to lose her grip.

Kim called to Alix from his tent, reaching for his bow. Another soldier swiped at the archer with her sword, slicing the bowstring clean in half. Kim tossed the bow aside but was grabbed from behind by another of the comte’s men. 

The blonde girl with the rose necklace reached for a fallen branch, heaving as she tried to lift the makeshift weapon. A soldier approached her, placing his foot on the branch and grabbing her shoulder with his free hand. 

Alya jumped to her feet as she watched the chaos; at the edge of the forest, she saw Lila mounted on a chestnut, the sigil of Comte Agreste on the horse’s saddle. Alya felt a cold rage at the sight of the girl’s smirk, and the healer pulled a dagger from her belt. She felt a pressure on her arm and Alya turned, sneering at her detainer. Her eyes met Nino’s, and he whispered, “We have to go.”

“But-” She paused for a moment, her gaze flickering desperately back to the raided campsite. A soldier caught her looking and approached, rapier at his side. Nino tugged at her again and she followed. They disappeared into the woods. 

The soldier prepared to run after them but a voice called him back, “Let them go! We have what we need!”

He turned to face Lila, who rested casually on her mount. The huntress surveyed the camp; the raid had been easier than she planned. The bleary-eyed Miraculeux huddled together, surrounded by soldiers and shivering in their sleeping garments. 

Nathalie pulled up her grey mare beside Lila, lips pursed as she looked to where Alya and Nino had escaped. “You missed a few. Don’t worry, your mistake will soon be remedied.” She waved some soldiers over. “Follow those two.”

Before the soldiers could move, Lila lifted her hand and closed her fist. “No.” She glared at Nathalie. “I made no mistake. Chat Noir is not here. How is he supposed to know what happened to his little friends unless we leave witnesses?”

The older woman considered her. “If what you said last night is true, then Chat Noir is already wounded and he can’t go far. We should hunt him down.”

“And drag my new husband kicking and screaming through the gates?” Lila laughed shortly. “I am a hunter, madame, and you can’t pursue a predator.” She eyed the crowd of bandits, who were being put into cuffs and chains. “You must lure him to you.”

Nathalie shook her head. “I’m afraid you’re incorrect, mademoiselle. He will never return of his own volition.” She lifted her hand, and the soldiers made towards the forest.

“Halt!” The soldiers slowed, uncertain, looking between the two women. Lila sneered at Nathalie, “He will return, and I know it. If you go hunting now, you’ll just be wasting everyone’s time.”

“You may know hunting, mademoiselle, but I know Chat Noir. I’ve been chasing him for years and-”

“And look how well that’s turned out for you!” Lila indicated the camp. “It’s my first day in command and I’ve accomplished more than you have in two years.”

Nathalie narrowed her eyes. “Listen, fille, you are not in command. I am, and you will do well to remember your place!”

Lila paused, then bowed her head. “Of course. Forgive me,” she smiled slyly. “Comtesse Agreste.”

Even the prisoners fell silent, all eyes on the exchange. Nathalie’s mouth gaped, and Lila raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Oops, forgive me, Nathalie, I misspoke.” She pouted her lips. “Because, you’re not the comtesse, are you?” Lila leaned in towards the other woman, lowering her voice. “I, however, will be, very soon. And once I’m calling the shots, I’ll be taking your… attitude, into consideration.”

Nathalie clenched her fist, looking away. “You are not an Agreste yet, mademoiselle.”

“Yet.” Lila echoed, making to move past her. “But then again, I’m not the one pretending to be.”

***

“Ah!” Chloe jumped back from the well, releasing her hold on the bucket. Water splashed all over her as she landed on her rear. “Shoo, shoo!” She kicked towards the small frog, which croaked mildly before hopping away. 

Chloe sniffed miserably as she surveyed her soaked dress. She stood and shook her arms, grabbing the bucket and setting it on the edge of the well. Just as she was fighting her tears, Chloe heard a noise from behind her. She turned to see Adrien, stumbling from the forest clad only his black cape, blood dripping from the arrow in his shoulder. 

He turned and collapsed with his back against the well as she squeaked in surprise. Adrien panted, smiling weakly up at her. “Bonjour.” He tapped the side of the well. “A glass of your finest, please.”

Chloe stood in shock, before she pushed the bucket back into the darkness, fumbling with the rope. Once she heard the splash, she hauled the full weight and grabbed the pail, setting it beside Adrien. He dunked his head into the water. 

There was another noise from the forest. Adrien lifted his head, eyes fearful. “They’re coming… Chloe, you have to… you have to run.”

The movement was getting closer. Chloe paused, and then reached for a tree branch. She hoisted it clumsily over her head. “I am so not running.”

A figure emerged from the darkness. Chloe brought the branch down over it’s head, crying out in anger.

“Woah!” The figure lifted the sheathed rapier so that it was parallel to the ground, parrying against the tip of the branch. The wood shattered in the middle and Chloe stood holding half of her weapon, gaping at Nino, who was carrying Adrien’s gear. He smiled at her, though his eyes were dismal. “Easy, mademoiselle, it’s me.”

Alya emerged as well, kneeling beside Adrien to check the wound. Chloe looked between them, confused. “What’s going on? Why-”

Nino’s gaze hardened. “The camp… Comte Agreste sent his soldiers, with Lila leading them.”

Beside the well, Adrien sat up at attention. “What? Lila? What are you-”

“Lila ran away last night,” The turtle bowed his head. “She must have gone to the castle and told the comte where our camp was.”

Adrien shook his head. “No… no. She saved us! She would never-” 

Beside him, the healer pressed her fingers against the compress in his right shoulder. “This arrow belongs to her,” Alya murmured. 

“No…” The cat stared at them, flexing his fingers as he processed the information.

Nino glanced back at the trees. “We should move. We may have been followed.”

Adrien frowned. “Shouldn’t we wait for the others?”

The silence that followed gave him his answer. The cat propped himself against the well, wincing as Alya came under his non-wounded side to support his weight. Nino shifted his gear to his other shoulder. The bandits all turned to Chloe, watching her carefully. 

She eyed them, uncertain. “What? What is it?”

Alya and Nino exchanged glances, and the fox said, “This isn’t your fight, mademoiselle. If this has gone too far, if you want to go home…”

Chloe hesitated. “They took everyone, Nino? Even… Sabrina?”

He nodded sullenly. 

The blonde girl clenched her fist and lifted her chin, eyes fierce. “Then this is my fight. Where you go, I will go.” The bandits smiled brokenly at her. “So… where exactly are you going?”

Adrien steeled his gaze. “There’s only one person who can help us. We’re going to Master Fu.”


	9. The Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just watched Loveater and I'm losing my mind. Also it's a sin that I didn't include Kagami or Luka in this story, but if everything goes according to plan and I write a prequel, I'll definitely include them.

The remaining Miraculeux trekked through the Fontainebleu Forest, sticking to the cover of the trees rather than risk traveling by the main road. Chloe went first, armed with Adrien’s rapier. He had insisted she carry it since he was too weak and she had already proven her ferocity by the well. The weapon was heavy but she brandished it without complaint. Alya came along second, supporting Adrien, while Nino followed behind, holding his shield ready at his side. 

Above them, Chloe would hear the occasional flap of wings; she followed the flash of red through the trees. After a few hours had passed, the falcon chirped as it led them to a clearing in the forest. The group emerged into a meadow, where a cobblestone hovel sat amidst purple heather kept in by mossy wooden fences. 

Nino stepped past the group and approached the hovel, knocking on the wooden door. There was a moment of silence before a gruff voice called out from inside, “Whose there?”

Still leaning on Alya, the cat said, “Master Fu, it’s Adrien. The son of Comte Agreste.”

The door opened, revealing a man of small stature. He folded his hands, considering the group with scrutinous brown eyes that were betrayed by the smile lines around them. “Ah, Adrien.” He considered the arrow wound in the cat’s shoulder. “You would come to me for this? A flesh wound? You know it is not safe here. Go back to the bandits; surely they-”

“The bandits have been captured by my father’s forces.” Adrien bowed his head. “We are all that’s left.”

Master Fu paused before moving back and waving for them to enter. Alya and Adrien went through; Nino reached for the rapier in Chloe’s hands, murmuring, “I’ll keep watch.”

The mademoiselle bit her lip, looking into the dimly lit hovel and back at Nino. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders slouched. He all but fell onto a log bench that sat beside the door. She huffed, “What’s wrong with you, then?”

Nino rubbed his eyes. “I’m alright, I just… I didn’t get that much sleep last night.” He smiled weakly at her. “Go inside, I’ll be fine.”

She snatched the rapier from his grasp. “Don’t be absurd, you can barely keep your eyes open.” Nino gaped at her and she tacked on a haughty, “I’m not risking my neck or anyone else’s because you’re too proud to admit you need a nap.”

He rose to his feet and Chloe sat gracefully on the log. Nino hesitated before he stepped towards the door. “... Thank you.”

Chloe scoffed in response, but when he disappeared into the hovel, she allowed herself a small smile. 

The sun sat at an angle; the late afternoon light spilled through the trees and illuminated the purple heather that lay in swatches throughout the meadow. From inside the hovel, Chloe heard voices; Alya and Nino were explaining what happened. After a few minutes of conversation, Adrien cried out in pain. Chloe realized that the arrow must have finally been removed, and she winced. 

When she found she could not make out any further discussion, Chloe focused instead on the trees. Her mind started to wander, and the gravity of the situation began to weigh on her.

The marquis would be furious if he found his daughter missing. No doubt Comte Agreste would blame the bandits, saying she had been kidnapped. If only her father could speak to Sabrina, but she was likely imprisoned with the rest of the Miraculeux, and he would never take the word of a handmaiden over a comte. 

The wind rustled through the leaves, and Chloe twitched as the shadows danced. Her heart was pounding, though she tried to quiet her fear. Even if the soldiers appeared, they would never dare to harm her. She was, after all, a noble.

But I’m not. Chloe gazed down at the rapier. I’m an outlaw, now.

She thought of when Chat Noir had hugged her, back at the carriage. She recalled the man stepping from the woods, the crossbow aimed at the bandit’s back. The arrow aimed at me. Chloe realized that her death meant nothing to the comte, that she was as much in danger as everyone else. She fixed her shaking hands around the hilt of the rapier, struggling to steady her grip. 

The smell of cooking meat seeped into her thoughts. Hunger replaced fear as her stomach growled. She heard no more voices inside, feeling a pang of betrayal knowing they were eating without her. Chloe took her eyes off the trees to glance longingly at the door. 

There was a flutter of noise, and she whipped her head around. Across the meadow, perched on a fencepost, sat the red falcon. The bird ruffled her feathers, catching the light and gleaming crimson. Chloe noted the black speckles on the falcon’s plumage, wondering what the pattern reminded her of. 

“A ladybug.” Chloe hadn’t meant to speak out loud, but she continued, pointing at the falcon. “You look like a ladybug.” She laughed to herself. 

The bird eyed her intensely, cocking her head. Chloe paused, then asked in a low voice, “Can you… understand me? Marinette?”

The falcon cried “Kee-kee”, lifting her wings and beating them down as she flew straight at Chloe. The mademoiselle yelped in alarm and ducked, covering her head with her arms. 

Behind her, she heard laughing. Chloe peered up to see Master Fu, gloved arm outstretched as the falcon perched there. There was a bit of rabbit meat hanging out of the bird’s mouth, and a bowl of stew in the man’s hand. He smiled at Chloe. “Forgive me, mademoiselle, I could not resist.” He offered her the bowl. “Hungry?”

The blonde hesitated, and then took the bowl. She ate gingerly at first, carefully not to slurp out of the spoon as she had been taught all her life. 

Master Fu frowned at her, stroking the falcon with his free hand. “I know you’re starving; there’s no need for courtesies.”

Chloe paused, dipping her spoon and filling it past capacity. She shoved the food in her mouth, savoring the taste. Before she had swallowed, she put another spoonful in, and another, until she was wolfing down the stew. 

The man from the East watched her approvingly; once she had finished, he lifted his hand and the falcon took flight, rising and disappearing above the trees. Master Fu offered her a waterskin, and Chloe accepted. 

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the forest. The old man cleared his throat. “Alya told me many things about you, Chloe of the house Bourgeois.” 

“Oh?”

“To start, I know you are the daughter of a marquis.” Master Fu sat beside her on the bench. “I am sure there is quite a story there, if you are willing to entertain an old man.”

She considered him. “It’s a long story.”

He waved his hand. “The others are asleep, and we have hours before sunset.”

Chloe began to talk; she told the man about her betrothal to Adrien, the bandits robbing her carriage, everything. When she finished, he stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

The blonde frowned. “What?”

Master Fu shrugged. “When Alya told me you were a noble, I assumed you had allied yourself with the bandits. I thought you might have given them horses or soldiers or gold.”

Chloe felt a stab of guilt, though she didn’t know why. She looked at the ground. “I… No. I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t give them anything…”

He reached out his hand to take hers, saying gently, “On the contrary, mademoiselle, you are here, which means you gave them everything.”

She held still, before lifting her gaze to meet his. Chloe smiled softly, then sniffed and looked away, holding her head high as she said haughtily, “Well, I am after all a Bourgeois, and we are known for our generosity.”

Master Fu shook his head, standing. “The sun will set soon; my home is far too small to contain a panther, so excuse me, mademoiselle.”

Chloe sat alone, the forest looming above her. She kept her eyes on the growing shadows, knowing any of them could take shape into soldiers. But now, she was no longer afraid. 

***

_ The light is fading. Soon. Glide below the tree line. Instinct now. _

_ Flap, flap, flap. Sinking talons into the earth. Soft. Almost dark. Almost pain. _

_ A shadow moves. Cock my head. Orange cloak. Brown hair. Not the fox though. Someone else._

_ I try to fly. The light is gone though. Pain. Bones shift. Up and see into her eyes. _

Lila grinned down as the falcon was wracked in pain. “Bonjour, Ladybird.”

The huntress watched in fascination as the bird’s feathers melted away into pale skin, her form shifting as black hair sprouted from her head. The transformation was over in an instant; Marinette looked up at Lila, her eyes still round and animal. She stood upright and thrust her arms toward the ground on either side of her, but without feathers to stabilize her, she tumbled to the side and fell. She raised her head, blinking away the wildness until her eyes were clear blue again. 

Lila nodded, impressed, and tossed a robe at the naked girl. “Here.” 

Marinette eyed her warily as she pulled the fabric around her shoulders. “You’re not here to kill me?”

Lila’s laugh rang out in the darkening forest. “Kill you? No, unfortunately. I’m just a messenger tonight.”

“And what is your message?”

The huntress smirked. “I don’t know how much that bird brain of yours can remember, but I’ll catch you up. This morning, I brought a squadron of Comte Agreste’s soldiers to your little camp. Your bandits fought bravely but ultimately we overwhelmed them. We captured them all, save your ‘chaton’ and a few extras. Those who did not escape are being held in the Comte’s dungeons currently, while the rest of your friends are staying with your little goldsmith friend.”

Marinette stared at her in horror. “You’re lying.”

“You can ask your friends yourself, once we’re done here.” Lila looked at her fingers, picking out dirt from underneath her nails. “I’ll get to the point; tomorrow, Comte Agreste will be holding court. If Chat Noir and Ladybird do not appear before him by midday, then he will have your bandits executed.” She flickered her gaze upward. “By beheading.”

“No.” Marinette backed away. “No, he can’t-”

“He can and he will.” 

“Lila, please, you have to stop him!”

She laughed. “I don’t have to do anything.” Lila turned began to walk away from her. “Now go tell your little friends, and remember; by midday.”

“Why?” The huntress paused at the question. “Why are you doing this, Lila? My friends gave you a place to stay, Adrien trusted you.”

Lila moved around to face her. “Why? Because all of my life, I’ve had nothing. I’ve been setting snares and scraping hides since I could walk. I have wandered and chased and hunted and finally, finally I’m going to get what I want.”

“What’s that?”

The huntress grinned. “Power, of course. Once Adrien is home, the Comte is going to have us married. I’m going to get a castle, land, soldiers…” Her eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “Parties, dresses, horses.” She laughed shortly. “After all, isn’t that why you wanted to marry him?”

Marinette gazed at her with pity in her eyes. “I married him because he had all those things, and he gave them up. He chose to be good instead of powerful.” She reached for the other girl. “You are good too, Lila, I know you are. It’s not too late to do the right thing.”

The huntress eyed her hand, and then grasped it. She pulled Marinette in close, hissing in her ear, “Tomorrow, the Comte will take Chat Noir’s ring and throw it in the fire. Then, you will be trapped as a falcon for the rest of your days…” Lila stroked the girl’s black hair. “And I’ll keep you as my pet.”

Marinette backed away, her eyes burning. “Adrien will never forgive you.”

The brunette snickered. “I don’t need him to forgive me, much less love me. I just need him to sit there and look pretty. After all, he’ll be my greatest trophy.”

Crack! Lila stumbled back as Marinette’s fist collided with her jaw. She fell and landed on her rear, gawking up at the black haired girl who shook out her hand casually. “Your message was received, Lila.” Marinette turned and moved toward the trees. “By midday.”


	10. The Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of this chapter you will find a link to duolingo's course on Ukrainian.

“Executed?” Nathalie looked up from the parchment in her hands. “My lord, is that necessary?”

“Why not?” Across the room, facing away from her, the comte poured himself a glass of wine. “They are thieves, menaces who have tormented my guests for years. I should have disposed of them long ago.”

“But… they are children. Many of their parents serve you directly.”

“Those children are outlaws, Nathalie, a fact that their parents are acutely aware of.” He turned and when he saw the concerned expression on her face, his eyes softened. “Don’t worry; I won’t have to carry out the sentence as long as Chat Noir does the right thing.”

Nathalie bit her lip. “Yes… My lord, have you considered that Adrien may value his freedom more than their lives?”

Comte Agreste scoffed. “He doesn’t; he’s too good. In order to protect those he cares about, he’ll return without a struggle.” He lifted the goblet to his lips but did not drink. “It’s that peasant girl. Once he’s free from her influence, things will be as they were before. He will remain here for the rest of his days, safe from any who would do him harm.”

The advisor watched as he drank his wine. “How long will that last? A month? A year? He’s escaped before, my lord, what will stop him from escaping again?”

He glared at her. “I will have him under surveillance. He’ll never leave my sight, not again.”

Her eyes were sad. “He’s not a boy anymore.”

“He’s not a man either.”

“You’re right.” She lifted her chin. “He’s half beast now.”

The comte flexed his fingers. “You are out of line, Nathalie.”

She bowed her head. “Forgive me, my lord, I meant no offense. I just…I don’t think threats and ultimatums are the correct manner in getting him back.”

“Oh? Then what would you have me do?”

Nathalie pursed her lips, thinking wildly but unable to come up with an answer. 

The comte huffed. “You think you know my son so well, but not enough to get him back.”

“And you don’t know him at all.” Nathalie heard herself say the words and immediately wished she could take them back. 

The comte scowled at her, setting his goblet on the table. He opened his mouth but was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. A soldier pressed the heavy wood open, peering in. “Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but we have urgent news from the marquis of Paris.”

Comte Agreste snarled, “Can’t it wait?”

“I’m afraid not; we have just gotten word that he will be here tomorrow morning, and he expects to find his daughter safe in our custody.”

The comte cursed loudly, waving the soldier away. “I’ll be there momentarily.” When the man was gone, Comte Agreste turned to Nathalie. He said in a low voice, “There is no turning back now, Nathalie. This is the only way to get my son back.” Then, softly, “I have already lost one member of my family; I will not lose another.”

Nathalie bowed her head and moved to exit the room. She paused at the door, before murmuring, “You have already lost him.”

***

The night wore on inside Master Fu’s home, and the remaining Miraculeaux sat around a table, digging through old texts. “Here!” Alya cried out in excitement. She leaned over to Marinette, who had fallen asleep on a scroll. “Wake up! I found something!”

Marinette stirred, grumbling, “Five more minutes.” 

Master Fu looked across the table at Alya. “What did you find?”

The brunette glared playfully at Marinette, saying, “Oh nothing much, just a way to break the curse.”

Marinette jolted awake. “What? What does it say?”

Grinning, Alya traced her fingers over the words. “It says, Have faith and love will find a way, on a day without night, and a night without day.”

The group waited eagerly for more, but Alya stopped and looked up expectantly. Chloe cleared her throat. “Is that all?”

Alya nodded. “We already know that the comte’s plan is to destroy Adrien’s ring because it would trap both of you in this form forever, right? But if you could destroy both rings at the same time...”

Marinette sighed. “We already agreed that’s impossible, since the rings disappear when we’re in our animal forms.”

“Yes, so you’d both have to be human, on a day without night, and a night without day.”

There was a moment of silence before Chloe said, “I’m sorry, am I missing something?”

“A day without night…” Marinette frowned. “But if there’s no day or night, what….”

“Or if both occurred at the same time.” Alya met their gazes.

Chloe huffed. “But how would that be possible?”

All was quiet before Alya sighed, bowing her head. “I… I don’t know.”

Marinette put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Alya. Thank you for trying.”

From outside, they heard a voice conversing with Nino. There was a scratch at the door before he peered in and said, “Someone’s here to see you.”

A shadow slipped into the room. The black panther moved to the table, stopping in front of Chloe and dropping a dead rabbit at her feet. The girl screamed and lifted her legs. “What is that?”

Marinette laughed. “He brought you a present.”

The panther purred and rubbed his head against Chloe, smearing blood on her dress. The girl shuddered, but tapped the top of the beast’s head gingerly. “I… thank you.”

“Hello?” They all turned to the door, where a slender, orange-haired woman stood. She grinned as Alya and Marinette jumped to their feet. 

“Madame Bustier!” The two girls ran forward and embraced the woman. Marinette looked up at her. “What are you doing here?”

The woman let herself be led into the room, chuckling. “Why do I need a reason to see my students?”

Alya rolled her eyes playfully. “Uh, maybe because those students are wanted criminals?”

Madame Bustier sat at the table, a sad smile on her lips. “Those of us in the village know better.”

Across the table, Chloe cleared her throat. Marinette turned to her. “Sorry Chloe, this is Madame Bustier. She was the tutor for the castle, and since we all lived in the village nearby, she would come and teach us on her days off.”

Madame Bustier curtsied politely. “Well my official title was governess. And your name, mademoiselle?”

The blonde lifted her chin. “I am Chloe of the House Bourgeois, the daughter of the Marquis of Paris.”

The governess gasped. “My lady! How-”

Alya interrupted, “It’s a long story. But you first, Madame; why are you here?” 

Madame Bustier paused, before explaining, “One of Comte Agreste’s soldiers, a girl with brown hair, came to our town earlier today, announcing that Les Miraculeux had all been arrested. She told us that Chat Noir and Ladybird had abandoned the bandits, and if they did not appear in the comte’s court by midday tomorrow…” She hesitated, her hands twisting in her lap. “While we all discussed what to do, the black panther came into our midst. At first we were afraid, but then I remembered that Marinette, or rather Ladybird, had been seen traveling with a black panther. I followed the beast to the forest, and then here.”

Marinette nodded solemnly. “We have already received word of the comte’s ultimatum, Madame. We intend to confront him tomorrow.”

The woman lifted her blue eyes to meet Marinette’s. “The bandits… You’re all just children… Do you really think the comte would do something like that?”

Alya stood. “The comte is bluffing. He would never willingly murder the children of his subjects.”

The orange-haired woman said, “But he surely means to capture Ladybird and Chat Noir. Perhaps he intends to execute you in their place…” She bit her lip. “I don’t know where Chat Noir is, but the two of you should run. You can do more good alive, saving other towns even if you couldn’t save ours.”

Marinette set her jaw. “Chat Noir and I would never abandon the people, not while Comte Agreste rules. And we certainly won’t abandon our friends.”

Chloe spoke up. “But Marinette, what if she’s right?” They all turned to look at her. “What if the only way to break the cu- ...cycle, is to wait it out? If you surrender tomorrow… that’s it. There’s no hope.”

There was a long moment of silence, before the panther moved to Marinette’s side. He pressed his head against her hand, sitting beside her as he licked her fingers. She gazed down at him sadly, before lifting her chin and steeling her gaze. “There will always be hope. It’s just as Alya said; have faith and love will find a way.” She looked around the room, making eye contact with all of them. “I don’t know how tomorrow will end, but I do know that we’ll get through this together. I believe in us.” She pointed to Madame Bustier. “Rally the villagers. Also, I need a horse.” Marinette explained, “I have a plan, but we’ll need to send out a scout to see if there’s any incoming travelers we can sway to our cause.”

Madame Bustier frowned. “What if these ‘travelers’ won’t be swayed?”

The black-haired girl smirked. “Then we may need to commit one last robbery.”


	11. Se Révolter

The marquis was not known for being a subtle man. For the short trip from Paris to Castle Agreste, he had nearly 30 guards in his company. This was mostly in part to his daughter’s letter that he received days before. Chloe spared no expense in detail, describing the monstrous bandits with their great numbers, hideous masks, and wicked demeanors. He shuddered as he sat inside the coach, reading the parchment once more as he thought of how to console his delicate child when he arrived at Castle Agreste.

There was a noise from the trees, a shriek and a voice yelling in terror. The marquis peered out the window of the coach, furrowing his brow as he tried to place the familiar sound. The voice called again, “Papa! Help!”

“Chloe?” The marquis slammed his fist on the wall of the coach, crying out, “Stop! Stop, it’s my daughter!” Swinging the door open, the man clumsily toppled out of the carriage, yelling, “Chloe! Where are you?”

From the trees; “Papa! They have me, Papa! No, let go! Unhand me, you villains!” There was another shriek that caused a flock of birds to abandon their resting place on a tree.

On the other side of the road, perched high on an oak branch, Alya winced. “She’s very convincing.”

Nino chuckled, polishing his shield. “Something tells me she’s had a lot of practice.”

The marquis waved his guard forward with an ornate rapier that had never tasted blood. “My Chloe’s in trouble! To arms, men! Charge!”

Half of the force raised their weapons and yelled as they followed the marquis into Fontainebleau Forest, drowning out the called instructions of their captain. The leader stayed back, cursing softly from atop his horse. He dismounted, instructing five of his men to watch the coach as he led the rest of the squadron into the trees. 

Alya scoffed. “Only five? How embarrassing.” 

Beside her, Nino stretched. “Don’t worry, cherie, we’ll go easy on them.”

Across the road, deep in the trees, the soldiers struggled to pick their way through the dense foliage. This particular part of the forest was thick with bushes, rocks, and briars, and the charge became more of a trudge. The captain followed at the rear, trying to keep track of his men. The marquis was long lost to sight.

There was a whistle behind him, and the captain turned to face Madame Bustier, her face painted dark green to blend in with the forest. She held an empty grain sack in one hand. The captain gave her a quizzical look before she pounced on him, throwing the bag over his head and tackling him to the forest floor. Beside them, a large boulder rose and took the shape of the village baker. He grinned at Madame Bustier from beneath his thick mustache, then prowled forward with another grain sack in hand. 

The baker approached another soldier from behind, placing his large hand over the man’s mouth to muffle a scream. 

One by one, villagers moved from their camouflaged positions and picked off the staggered troops. Those at the front rushed blindly through the trees, unaware of their fallen comrades as they followed the marquis. 

The man himself finally emerged into a clearing, panting and covered in dirt. At the center of the clearing was Chloe, bound to a tree. She sneered at her father, “Ugh, it’s about time!” 

He hesitated, and when she sniffled pathetically, he ran forward. “I’m so sorry, ma fille, are you hurt?” The marquis took his rapier and sawed at the rope. Chloe rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t you have a dagger or something faster? They’ll be back any moment!”

Chloe continued to carry on, whining as the marquis struggled to remove a dagger from his belt. He sliced through the rope and his daughter wailed again, leaping forward to embrace him. 

“Papa, it was horrible! They said they would hold me for ransom; they tried to feed me a dead rabbit-”

“Hush, now.” The marquis squeezed his daughter tightly. “We’ll straighten this out with the comte.”

“Oh! That was the worst part!” She leaned back, sniffling as a single tear ran down her face. “He lied to us, Papa! Adrien has been missing for two years! Can you believe it?” Chloe narrowed her eyes. “That dirty comte thinks he can lie to the Marquis of Paris! Well, he has another thing coming! Come, Papa, let’s burn his castle to the ground!”

The marquis paused. “Well… He may not have exactly… lied.”

Chloe eyed him, feigning confusion. “Oh?” 

“Ma fille… I knew that Adrien was missing. I sent you away so that you would never find out the truth.”

“So you lied to me.” There was no more confusion in her voice, only a deadly certainty that took the marquis off guard.

“I… Yes.” He squinted at her; there was something different all of a sudden, something wilder about his well bred daughter. 

Chloe gazed up at him. “Why, Papa?”

The marquis hesitated. “I… Well, I didn’t think you could bear the news. You’re so delicate, ma cherie, and I was afraid you would fall apart.”

She lifted her hands to take his, her voice gentle. “I’m not delicate, Papa. I’m much stronger than you know.”

His eyes welled up with tears. “I’m so sorry, Chloe.”

“So am I.” He looked at her in confusion as Chloe pulled tight the knot. The marquis looked down to see that his hands were bound in front of him. 

“Chloe? What-”

The sound of clapping rang out in the clearing. The marquis turned to see a young man, clad all in black. He wore cat ears on his blond hair and a mask over his green eyes. “Bravo, Chloe.”

The marquis’s eyes widened in panic as he turned back to his daughter. She wiped away her fake tears, grinning. “Merci, merci, be sure to catch my next performance in Versaille.”

The bandit in black unsheathed his rapier, aiming it at the marquis. He raised a gloved hand and from above, the falcon dove, alighting on his arm. “Bonjour, Marquis Bourgeois. My name is Chat Noir and we are in need of your coach and the uniforms of your guard.”

The marquis sputtered indignantly. “How dare you!”

Chat Noir grinned. “Ah, so that’s where she gets it.”

Chloe moved to the cat’s side. “You haven’t met my mother.”

The villagers appeared around them, each holding a captured soldier. They made quick work of the uniforms, leaving the guard and the marquis bound and gagged beneath the trees. 

As they made their way back to the coach, Chat Noir reached out and took Chloe’s hand. “A moment, mademoiselle.”

She glanced back at him suspiciously. “We don’t have time-”

“There is something I must say.” He gazed at her sincerely. “I want to apologize again, Chloe. I broke my promise to you, my promise to wed you and be by your side no matter what.”

Chloe was taken aback. Slowly, she moved her other hand to cover his. “Adrien… it’s alright. Really, I’m fine.”

“I know. You have done so much for us, and I wanted to thank you.” He pressed a piece of black and yellow fabric in her hands. “I will never be able to make you a comtesse, but I can make you a queen, so to speak.”

Chloe looked down at the mask, her eyes widening. Adrien had made it from one of his black masks, save for the yellow ribbon that was hastily sewn along the top ridge and around the eyes. She lifted her hand and pressed the mask to her face, grinning up at him from beneath the bee-like pattern. “Let’s go storm the castle.”

***

In the main courtyard of Castle Agreste, a crowd had gathered of those from surrounding villages who wanted to see the day’s proceedings. When the gates called to be opened, the group swelled to the edges of the walkway, straining to catch a glimpse of the famous bandits. When the marquis’s coach rolled into view, the crowd was sorely disappointed. 

On the steps leading to the Great Hall, Lila huffed in annoyance. “What is taking Chat Noir so long?”

Beside her, Nathalie stood tall and immobile. “Perhaps he has run away.” She knew it was impossible, though part of her wished it were true. Most likely, Adrien was enjoying his last moments of freedom before facing imprisonment. 

The company moved through the courtyard and the coach rolled to a stop in front of the door. Lila muttered, “I don’t have time for this.”

Nathalie muttered back, “Funny, because a comtesse would.”

The brunette gritted her teeth but otherwise remained silent. As the marquis’s guards dismounted, a footman climbed down from the coach and stood beside the door. “Announcing the arrival of his greatness, his eminence, the protector of the common man, and the speaker for the nobility, keeper of the law, ruler of the land, master of the sword, his lordship-”

There was a pause. “First and last son of his father, eater of-”

“Enough!” Lila hissed. 

The footman grinned to himself and opened the door. “Chat Noir!”

There was silence. The bandit king stepped out of the coach, smirking at the shocked expressions of the two women. “As a guest of the comte, I do so appreciate such a warm welcome.” 

The courtyard erupted in noise. Some of the wealthier villagers booed, but mostly the crowd cheered. The marquis’s guard remained still. Around them, Comte Agreste’s soldiers drew their swords. Chat Noir sighed and leaned over to the footman. “See that, Nino? One minute they love you and the next…”

Nino nodded sympathetically. “Exactly, pick a lane.”

Lila stepped down, grinning triumphantly. She called to the crowd, “Silence! Silence!”

The cacophony continued, ignoring her. Chat Noir focused his gaze on Nathalie, who lifted her hand casually to calm the villagers. The bandit king approached, raising his arm. By the time the falcon had landed, the courtyard was still. 

Nathalie’s voice was hard, but her eyes were sad. “You came.”

Chat Noir nodded. “And you’ll release Les Miraculeux?”

To the side and front of the bandit, Lila scoffed. “They will keep their heads, as well as their chains.”

One of the marquis’s guards removed their helm, revealing piercing blue eyes and a mustache. The baker raised his borrowed sword. “You will release our children.”

Lila glared at him, then realized Chat Noir’s eyes were on her. She paused, before saying, “Perhaps Chat Noir can… negotiate with the comte.” She indicated the door to the Great Hall. 

Chat Noir paused. He turned to face the crowd. The bandit king smiled at his friends, but his eyes betrayed his fear. “It’s going to be alright.” With his free hand, he lifted his rapier to the crowd. “Vive Les Miraculeux!”

The crowd erupted into cheers. Nathalie watched the swarm of people as Chat Noir walked past her, followed by Lila. The advisor heard the door open, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Lila whispering to a guard, “Those villagers have conspired with thieves and traitors. Seize them, and if they resist, kill them.”

Nathalie’s blood ran cold. She turned to speak, but the door was closed, and the captain of the guard had raised his hand.

Comte Agreste’s men closed in around the villagers. The resistance huddled in together, swords drawn. Nathalie clenched her fist, then called, “Put your weapons down!”

The baker growled, “Not until you release our children!”

A soldier cried, “A revolt! The peasants are revolting!” There was a clash of steel. 

Everything descended into chaos. The villagers rushed the guards, while the crowd backed away screaming to avoid the fight.

A villager woman broke from the fray and ran up the steps towards Nathalie, her blue eyes furious beneath the helm. The advisor cursed as she drew her sword with her non-wounded hand, barely parrying the attack as the woman brought the weapon down. The villager delivered blow after blow, again and again, while Nathalie struggled to hold her off. 

The advisor felt the hard wood of the door pressed against her back. Her arm was exhausted; this woman was going to kill her if she didn’t do something. Nathalie briefly wondered whose child belonged to her, as she brought the flat of the blade against the side of the woman’s helm. 

The villager cried out as the metal rang, ripping the iron helm off and pressing her palms to her ears. Nathalie panted as her arm hung limply at her side, eyeing the woman when she saw the orange hair. “Which one of them is yours, then?”

The woman glared up at Nathalie. “None of them, yet also, all of them. I was the village governess.”

The advisor paused. “None of them? You fight like this, like a madwoman for children that you never bore?”

“They are mine as much as they are their parents’, and I know them just as well if not better.” Her eyes burned. “I will fight for them, protect them, die for them if I have to. I would have stormed this castle by myself to secure their freedom!” She snarled, “Not like I expect a heartless witch like you to understand.”

Nathalie stared at her. She felt the door against her back, and a jab in her chest at the thought of Adrien facing his father alone. The sword clattered to the stone. The orange-haired woman gaped at her as Nathalie reached out to the villager. “Follow me.”


	12. The Coup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooh the penultimate chapter. I know it's short but we're almost there, babyyyy. 
> 
> Also thanks for the comments/kudos/feedback y'all; it means a lot to me.

Small footsteps pounded down the corridor of the castle. The young girl spun around the corner, descending into the kitchen and crying out, “They’re fighting! There’s a rebellion in the courtyard!”

The cooks and kitchen staff looked up, confused, before swarming her and battering her with questions. “Manon, what are you talking about?” “Who’s fighting?”

When she caught her breath and explained, the staff rushed out to see. The head cook put her hand on Manon’s shoulder. “S’il vous plait, go hide.”

The girl stamped her foot indignantly. “But-”

“No, Manon, it’s too dangerous.” The cook handed her a knife. “Go to the servants quarters, and wait.”

Manon hesitated, then did as she was told. Once she was out of view, she held up the knife and sliced through the air, practicing. The comte’s soldiers had always been cruel to her, and she would have liked to give them a stab or two. 

As she came to the entrance of the servants quarters, she paused; voices came from inside, and the sound of stone scraping across the floor. Manon took a deep breath, readying the knife in her hand. She jumped into the doorway, crying out, “En guarde!”

The intruders were not the comte’s soldiers; they were two young women, one in orange and the other in yellow and black. They gaped at her from behind masks. Behind them, a stone tile was in disarray on the floor, revealing the secret passageway they had entered from. 

Manon eyed them. “Who…”

The brunette woman with the orange tunic raised her hands in surrender. “We are members of Les Miraculeux, mademoiselle. We are here to rescue our friends. My name is-”

“Alya?” The girl dropped her knife. “Is that you?”

The fox paused. “I… Manon?”

Manon bolted forward, and the girl in yellow panicked and reached for her sword. Alya opened her arms wide as the servant girl crashed into her, hugging tightly. “Alya! I missed you so much!”

“Oh, I missed you too, Manon!” Alya squeezed her tightly before setting her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Look how tall you are! When did that happen?”

Manon giggled. “Where’s Marinette? Is she with you?”

The fox paused, exchanging glances with her blonde companion. “I’m afraid not, Manon. That’s actually why we’re here; Marinette’s in trouble.” She crouched slightly so that her eyes were level with Manon’s. “Do you think you can help us?”

The servant girl clenched her fist and nodded. “Of course, anything for Marinette.”

Alya smiled. “Thank you, Manon. Can you show us to the dungeons?”

Manon crossed her arms and considered them. “Oui, but there’s more guards there than usual.” She turned and went to a shelf, grabbing different pieces of fabric. “You’ll need disguises to get past them.”

She handed both bandits a pile of clothes. As Alya pulled a grey skirt over her legs, she nodded towards the blonde. “Manon, this is Chloe of the House Bourgeois.”

The servant’s eyes widened and she curtsied, avoiding eye contact. “Oh, forgive me, madame. It’s a pleasure.”

Chloe frowned. “Thank you, but there’s no need for formalities.” She held up one of the grey skirts and eyed Alya disdainfully. “Ugh, these are hideous! Don’t they have anything in pink?”

The fox laughed, stuffing a shirt that was far too large into the skirt. “This is a coup, Chloe, not a masque.”

The marquis’s daughter winced and pulled the thick wool over her legs. “If I die wearing this, I’ll haunt you until the end of your days.”

Once they were dressed, Manon led them to the kitchen, handing them trays with scraps of bread. “Just follow me, and play along.”

The bandits followed Manon through the corridors; any guards they encountered seemed more preoccupied with the rebellion outside and less with the three servant girls, who kept their eyes down and mouths shut. Finally, they arrived at the heavy oak door leading to the dungeons, where two guards watched them approach. 

One the guards frowned at Manon. “What’s this then?”

“We were told to bring the prisoners their meals.”

“The prisoners do not eat til midday.”

The other guard fixed his gaze on Chloe, pursing his lips beneath a heavy moustache. “Haven’t seen you before, fille; didn’t know we had any blondes working at the castle.”

Chloe averted her eyes. “I’m new, sir.”

“Sir?” He laughed. “Good, you can teach the others some manners.” He reached a gloved hand out and grabbed her chin; she shuddered under his touch. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?”

Chloe gritted her teeth, her eyes burning as she glared up at him. “Can’t say the same for you, sir,” she hissed the word this time. “Now, get your hands off me.”

The moustached guard gaped as his companion laughed. “Why you little-”

The other guard reached up and put a hand on his shoulder, still chuckling. “Oh leave the girl alone.” He returned his eyes to Manon. “I’m afraid we still can’t let you in, though. Comte’s orders.”

Manon nodded thoughtfully. “Funny; that’s what we were told. Something about a last meal. But very well, we’ll report back to the head cook and she’ll report to Nathalie, and I’m sure she’ll be very understanding. She always is.”

The guards exchanged glances. The first cleared his throat. “Make it quick.” He reached over and pulled the door open. 

The girls entered the dungeon. The room was large and windowless, the only light source coming from a candle on the single, center table with an empty chair. The members of Les Miraculeux sat around the edges of the chamber, still wearing their colorful tunics beneath simple, black cloaks, hoods pulled over their heads as they sat crouched in despair. Chains held them to the wall, and none of them looked up when the girls walked in. 

“Miraculeux?” Alya set her tray on the table, then leaned down beside the bandit in the pink tunic. “Rose? It’s me, Alya.”

Chloe trained her gaze on the empty chair in the room. “Something’s wrong,” she murmured to Manon. “Shouldn’t there be a guard?”

Alya ignored her and grabbed the prisoner’s arm. “Rose, we’re here to rescue you.”

A voice sneered from the cloak, “How thoughtful.” The prisoner removed their hood to reveal the grinning face of one of Comte Agreste’s soldiers. “Did you hear that, everyone? Les Miraculeux are here to save us.” As the rest of the soldiers removed their hoods to reveal their violet tunics, the leader unsheathed their sword. “Or at least, what’s left of them.”

Chloe reached for her weapon but found it hidden under her layers of disguise. One of the soldiers came up behind her and shoved her and Manon into the center of the room with Alya. The bandits looked around desperately. They were surrounded.


	13. Duelists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I love writing fight scenes. Sorry for all the fencing jargon, I used to be a sabre coach (hey that's the one Adrien uses in the show, except the way they fence is more indicative of epee ergo why they're using 'rapiers' and not sabres in this fic. TLDR you can pry epee Adrien from my cold dead fingers).

The door to the Great Hall shut behind him with a thunderous boom, though Chat Noir swore the pounding of his own heart was louder. He lifted his arm and the falcon ascended, flying up and disappearing into the rafters. The bandit king was alone now.

He faced the courtiers and clergy who watched him with fearful yet disapproving eyes. The crowd had split in two to make an aisle, and Chat Noir stepped forward on the strip of stone amidst the sea of glittering vipers. He stopped in the center of the room, his feet planted on the family crest etched into the floor; the violet peacock. To his right, a fire roared in the hearth. 

At the end of the great hall, two thrones sat on a dais, shrouded in sunlight that poured in from a large circular window above them. One of the chairs held Comte Agreste, dressed in his long, intricately embroidered violet robes; the other had been empty for the last 12 years. 

The room was silent save the crackling of the fire, until finally, the comte spoke in a soft yet commanding tone, “Chat Noir, how good of you to accept my invitation.”

The bandit king held his head high. “You mean your threat, Comte Agreste?”

“Come now, I feel as though I am being generous.” The comte eyed him, trying to find his son under the mask. “I ought to have hung every one of you thieves for stealing the wealth of my people.”

“If your people are so wealthy, then why do they starve in the streets? We are not the thieves; your nobles are, and they have stolen from the poor of the kingdom.” The bandit king smirked. “We were simply giving it back.”

“You can believe your lies, but they do not protect you from the law. You must answer for your crimes.”

The cat considered him. “So I shall. I am here, Comte Agreste, I have accepted your ultimatum. Now you must keep your end of the deal, and let the members of Les Miraculeaux go.”

“The deal was that your bandits would be left alive, not that they would be allowed to go free.”

“Very well, but they are alive?”

The comte nodded. “For now.”

Chat Noir steeled his gaze. “Then I offer you another deal. Free the bandits, and I shall accept all punishment for the crimes of Les Miraculeux.”

Comte Agreste grinned wickedly. “How noble of you.”

“Then you accept?”

The comte stood. “You have nothing left to bargain with, Bandit King. You and the rest of your traitors will rot in the dungeons for the rest of your days. Guards, seize him, and bring me the ring from his left hand.” He turned away as the soldiers unsheathed their swords, smiling to himself as he heard the clash of steel and the two bodies hit the floor with pained grunts. Behind him, Chat Noir’s footsteps echoed as the cat ran towards him. 

In one swift movement, the comte removed his robes to reveal armor. He unsheathed his weapon as he whipped around, his rapier parallel to the ground, parrying the attack and stopping Chat Noir’s blade from slicing through his skull. The cat gasped in surprise and the comte lifted his boot, kicking Chat Noir soundly in the ribs. 

The bandit king fell back and rolled off the dais, weapon clattering on the stone. He growled as he reached for his rapier, the comte descending the steps and shaking his head in disapproval. “I have trapped you, Chat Noir, like the beast you are.”

Chat Noir lunged and yelled, “You mean the beast you made me?”

Their swords clashed and the courtiers backed away, giving the men room to duel. Chat Noir spun and slashed at his opponent’s side. The comte parried the attack. “You did this to yourself!” 

“No!” The cat jumped back as the comte riposted with a thrust; the tip of the sword managed to stab through the material of his black armor and prick his left shoulder, drawing a hiss from the bandit king. “I did what I had to! What you never could!” Chat Noir sliced at the comte’s side and the older man parried slightly too late, grunting in pain as he pushed the bloodied blade away from the fresh cut just beneath his ribs. Chat Noir retreated and growled in triumph, “I became a leader.”

The comte scoffed. “You became a pawn, her pawn. You think she loves you?” 

“I know she loves me!”

A clang echoed through the hall as their swords locked, and the comte sneered at Chat Noir through their crossed blades. “She loved your money, your title, your power! That’s all peasants ever want!” Comte Agreste clenched his left hand into a fist and struck Chat Noir’s cheek, sending him careening to the side. “They wish they were us, but they just aren’t bred for it!”

Chat Noir turned and lunged; the comte sidestepped easily and grabbed his opponent’s wrist. With one hand, he jerked the cat’s arm, throwing him forward as the bandit king lost his balance. The other hand reached for the back of the cat’s skull. His fingers wrapped around the black ribbon that secured the cat’s mask, yanking it back with a few blond hairs. 

The bandit king cried out, barely catching himself on the stone floor, where he stared down at the fallen mask. 

A collective gasp echoed throughout the Great Hall. Adrien Agreste rose to his feet, turning to face the comte. He resumed his battle stance: his shoulders hunched to prepare for attack, his cheekbones sharp with hunger, his eyes ferocious and green like the forest he had called home for the last two years. 

The comte grinned in victory. “But you, my son, you were made for this.” He indicated the throne. “You were made to take over, to rule my lands as I have ruled them, to marry well and remain here, in this castle, where you belong.” 

Adrien yelled and lunged again, but the comte retreated with an easy parry and riposted to his son’s right shoulder. The wound there opened with the pressure, and he gasped in pain, falling to one knee. 

“My son, don’t you want to be a family again?” The comte’s voice almost sounded sincere. “Don’t you want to make your mother proud?”

The black tunic concealed the blood, but Adrien felt the slick wetness of it mingling with his sweat. He bowed his head, trying not to betray the pain he felt. Above him, the falcon called suddenly. Adrien lifted his gaze to see the bird descending, alighting on top of his mother’s empty throne. The falcon ruffled her feathers, and they gleamed scarlet in the sun. Adrien took a deep breath, then clenched his left fist, acutely aware of the black band on his ring finger. 

The bandit king rose to his feet, turning to face his father, shoulders back as he stood tall. “She would be proud of me, for choosing my own path.” He grinned, resuming the thief’s demeanor that was still alien to his father. “But you, however… I’m glad she’s not alive, to see what a monster you’ve become.”

The comte cried out in anger and lunged at Adrien, slashing and stabbing with such ferocity that the cat could not retreat fast enough. While attempting a riposte, the comte knocked Adrien’s rapier out of his hands, the tip of his blade aimed at his son’s throat. “I’m not the one with claws.”

The door to the Great Hall suddenly heaved open to the sound of shouts and fighting. The two duelists looked up with the rest of the courtiers as Nathalie entered with Madame Bustier and Nino. The latter closed the door again as the advisor yelled, “Comte Agreste, stop this!”

The comte sneered, “Nathalie, what is going on?”

“Forgive me, my lord, but they are free.”

“Who is?”

Madame Bustier stepped forward. “Les Miraculeux.”

Nathalie nodded. “We released them from the tower; they have joined the rest of the villagers and are fighting their way to freedom in the courtyard now. It’s over, my lord.”

The comte stared at his advisor. “Nathalie… you have betrayed me?”

“I vowed to protect the House of Agreste.” She bowed her head, making eye contact with Adrien. “That includes the heir.”

Comte Agreste stood upright. “Very well. I expected more from you, but you have disappointed me for the last time.” He indicated to the nearby guards. “Seize them.”

Four guards approached those who entered; Madame Bustier brandished her sword but Nathalie indicated for her not to resist. The advisor held her head high as the guards surrounded them, her gaze trained on the comte. 

“Father?” The comte jerked his head towards his son, thrown off by the tenderness in his voice. The younger man murmured, “Please. It doesn’t have to end this way. There’s no need for any more bloodshed, for any more prisoners.”

There was something so familiar about the way his son looked up at him; his green eyes, the blond locks framing his face. The comte had forgotten how much he resembled her, the wife he had lost all those years ago… 

From the side of the hall opposite the fireplace, Lila’s voice rang out, “Agree to disagree.” All heads turned to see the brunette standing with a grin on her features, a bow in her hand with an arrow nocked, aimed at the falcon that sat perched on the empty throne. Beside her, two guards held Chloe and Alya, swords against their throats. 

At the door of the hall, Nino cried out, “No!” Nathalie threw out her hand to hold him back, Madame Bustier clutching the advisor’s arm in apprehension. 

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Lila, don’t!”

Lila laughed and closed one eye, drawing the bowstring further. “You will recall that I am an excellent huntress, amore mio; I never miss.”

The comte regained his composure, nodding his head towards Lila. “You see now, Adrien. As I said before, I have trapped you. All of you.” He sheathed the rapier and held out his hand, palm up. “Give me the ring, or their blood will stain the floor.”

Adrien shifted his gaze from Lila to Alya, then Chloe. Both seemed nervous, but not afraid. Chloe locked her blue eyes with his green, shaking her head ever so slightly. Adrien turned to Nathalie, whose usually stoic features had become somber. Nino gave him a pleading look. The cat gazed around the room, though many of the courtiers averted their eyes. Finally, Adrien looked at the falcon, glowing in the light from the window. The sunbeam started to fade slowly, and the entire room grew dim. 

“The ring, Adrien.”

The cat bowed his head and turned to his father. His hands shook as he slowly slipped the black band off his finger. He placed it in his father’s open palm, refusing to meet his gaze. 

“Look at me.” He did not. The comte placed the tip of his sword under Adrien’s chin, forcing his head up to meet his intense stare. Comte Agreste held the ring in his open palm, grinning in triumph. “Look at me, Adrien, and know you’ve lost. That dirty peasant girl will remain a falcon, you will marry Lila, and you will never leave this castle again.” 

The comte sheathed his weapon, then turned and strode towards the fire that blazed at the side of the Great Hall, the room growing ever dimmer around him. Adrien watched helplessly, sinking to his knees. Comte Agreste examined the ring once more, then closed his fingers around it. He held his closed hand over the fire, ready to drop the piece of jewelry. 

“Comte Agreste!”

All eyes in the room turned to the comtesse’s throne, where a girl stood, draped in the comte’s discarded violet robe. Her black hair fell freely around her shoulders, blue eyes sitting above a smirk.

Adrien stared up at her, his eyes lighting up like a man who has seen the face of God. He glanced past her to the circular window. Through it, he saw the sun, but it was different somehow. The sun was darker, as if something was blocking it’s light. 

From the side of the room, Alya gasped and all heard her say, “Of course… A night without day… A solar eclipse!”

Lila screamed, “No!” and loosed the arrow. Marinette stepped behind the throne and the bolt lodged into the solid wood. The brunette tossed the bow aside and pulled out her dagger, running towards the bandit queen. Lila charged as her adversary remained still, and when the huntress lunged, Marinette dodged and snatched her enemy’s wrist. She twisted Lila’s arm behind her back, causing the girl to cry out and drop the dagger. 

Marinette leaned in and said, “If you want to keep this hand, then I suggest you stand aside.”

The huntress hissed in pain as the bandit queen twisted again then released her. She staggered away as the black-haired girl turned to the comte. 

The dim light from the eclipse shrouded Marinette as she approached Comte Agreste. The man stared at her, watching as she lifted her closed hand and dropped her ring in front of him. As the band hit the floor, the sound of metal clinking rang out in the silent hall. The comte dropped Adrien’s ring on the floor and backed away, horror on his face at the sight of Ladybird standing beside the fire, her robe gleaming violet in the light. 

Comte Agreste averted his eyes, but Adrien grabbed his rapier and came up behind him, pressing his blade against his back. He hissed in his father’s ear, “Look at her.” The comte tried to shield his eyes, but Adrien slapped his arms away, yelling, “Look at her, Father!” Comte Agreste trembled as his son spoke in a low voice. “Now look at me.” 

Adrien moved to stand in front of his father. “Look at us.” His voice was quiet now, that same commanding softness that the comte had mastered. “Look and know that you’ve lost. Know that this peasant girl, who has shown the world more compassion than your wicked heart ever will, who I have sworn my sword and my heart to… She will remain a human. I will marry her, and you… you will never leave this castle again.” For a moment, Adrien stood uncertain. He inhaled and held his head high, calling, “Guards!”

There was a long moment of silence. Finally, Comte Agreste knelt in front of his son, murmuring, “Do as he says.”

The guards released Chloe and Alya, walking up to the comte and grabbing his arms. They led him away from the fire, through the courtiers to the hallway and down to the dungeon. Without thinking, Adrien moved to follow, but stopped in the center of the room. He stared forlornly at the empty corridor, his jaw clenched and tears gathering in his eyes.

“Chaton?”

He turned to look at her again. Marinette smiled as she fought back tears, approaching him. Adrien stood still for a moment, drinking in the sight of her, until he reached out to her. Marinette paused, feeling the eyes of the courtroom as they watched the nobleman and the peasant girl. She trembled as she placed her hand in his. 

Then the courtroom was gone, and there was only Adrien and the warmth of his breath, only his gentle green eyes gazing into hers. One of his hands was on her back, the other trailing down her face, savoring the feel of her skin. She lifted her hand to hold his on her cheek, and the tears fell freely as Marinette beamed at him. Adrien smiled, pulling her in for a kiss.

She had almost forgotten that feeling, forgotten his arms around her and his lips against hers. As they stood there, remembering, she tasted salt and realized they were both crying. 

Pulling away, they laughed and pressed their foreheads together. Then Adrien bent down, wrapping his arms around her thighs and lifting her high in the air. Marinette threw her arms open wide, the courtroom echoing with the radiant sound of her laughter. 

At the side of the hall, Chloe leaned over to a sniffling Alya. “So, does this mean I can use the Agreste’s baths again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh whaaaaaat that can't be the end. I mean it can, but I'm going to write an epilogue bc I'm a sappy romantic bitch. Let me know your thoughts on this final chapter, and hmu if you'd be interested in a prequel fic. Love and stuff


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up, I'm taking Nathalie and Gabriel's relationship in a way different direction than the show, but I honestly believe that works better for their characters in this story.

After the third day, the guards had removed the former comte, Gabriel Agreste, from the dungeon and placed him in the room that had once been Adrien’s. Though there was furniture and light, Gabriel understood clearly that he was still a prisoner, with guards constantly posted outside the door. 

He received no visitors for nearly a fortnight after the eclipse, and when he heard voices and the creaking of the door, Gabriel looked up forlornly. The visitor was not his son, as expected, but Nathalie. 

The advisor suffered no demotion, and she stood with her hands behind her back as she did so many times. She nodded at him. “The comte wants to know how you find your cell.”

Gabriel looked away and out the window, letting out a short chuckle. “Then why does ‘the comte’ not come ask me himself?”

“He cannot bear to, my lo-” She paused. “Monsieur Agreste.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nathalie, just call me Gabriel.”

Nathalie eyed him. “I can assure you that the comte will come to visit, in due time.”

He nodded, but kept his gaze fixed on the countryside. “Since you’re using the title so formally, I gather the investiture ceremony occured?”

“The ceremony was yesterday, overseen by the Marquis of Paris himself.”

“Good.”

Gabriel looked down at the courtyard, watching as a servant brought a great black horse and a carnelian chestnut into the center. He watched the young comte step into the yard, with his golden hair and violet tunic, followed by the black-haired seamstress in a pink gown. From the way she walked, the tall shoulders and graceful step, Gabriel might never have guessed she was a peasant and not a noblewoman. 

“Was there anything else, Nathalie?”

“... Yes, my lo- Gabriel.” She considered her words. “I wanted to explain myself.”

“There’s no need for-”

“There is, and you will listen.”

He turned to her then, impressed with her forwardness. “Very well.”

Nathalie’s face remained emotionless. “As I said that day, I vowed to protect your house and family. I served you for years, watched as you isolated yourself from your friends and family, squandering the people’s money. Yet I said nothing, because it was never my place, and because… of how much I cared for you. And despite myself, I still do.”

Gabriel nodded thoughtfully. “So you are here to tell me that you… love me.”

“No.” She squared her shoulders. “I will admit there were times when I was infatuated, but I could never truly love someone who does not respect me. I am here to tell you that someone, against all better judgment, does love you, and he always will.”

The former comte watched as his son mounted the black steed, calling for the gates to be opened. 

Nathalie continued. “And because of his love, he will, in time, forgive you. Despite it all.”

Gabriel bowed his head. “I know, Nathalie.”

“What you do not know is this.” She leaned in then, fixing her cold gaze on him. “He will forgive you, but I… I will not.” Nathalie stood upright. “And even when he frees you, even when he lets you begin your life again, I will not let you leave my sight. You will always be my prisoner. And I will never let you hurt him, or the future comtesse, ever again.” She moved to the door, exiting swiftly and leaving Gabriel alone with his thoughts once again. 

***

“Sabrina, what is that on your face?”

The redhead turned away from Chloe, reaching up to wipe away the tear. “I’m sorry, mademoi- I mean, Chloe, I just…” She sniffled pathetically. “It was such a beautiful ceremony.”

The noblewoman grinned at Sabrina as they exited the Great Hall, descending the steps and following the gathering into the courtyard. “What is it with fair maidens and crying at weddings?” Chloe pulled out a kerchief from her purse and pressed the fabric against Sabrina’s cheek. 

Beside her, the Marchioness of Paris eyed the exchange with disdain. “Chloe, ma fille, your handmaiden can wipe her own tears.” The woman reached for the arm of the marquis, who lead them through the crowded courtyard and to the table that had been set for their household. “I myself felt the ceremony was lacking, but her dress was gorgeous. I simply must get the name of her seamstress.”

Chloe turned to meet her mother’s blue eyes. “The comtesse made her gown herself, Maman.”

“Oh? How... quaint.” The marchioness shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun as she glanced at the marquis. “What were your thoughts, mon amour?”

“Hmm?” The large man finally reached the table, stepping forward and pulling out a chair for his wife. “Oh, yes, it was nice.”

The marchioness sighed and sank gracefully into her seat. “I have a mind to ask that girl to make your wedding dress, Chloe, when the occasion arises.” She eyed her daughter, who pulled out a chair for Sabrina before taking her own seat. “In fact, I have heard that the Duke’s son is in attendance here today.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Maman, I told you. I want my knighthood first, then marriage.”

Her mother shuddered. “If you insist, but I really think-”

The sound of horns erupted through the courtyard, followed by the cheers of the courtiers. Chloe lifted her head to see the doors to the Great Hall, where stood the Comte and Comtesse Agreste. They descended the steps, making their way towards the head table amidst the crowd of mingled villagers and courtiers. 

Adrien wore a violet tunic with the emblem of his house on the chest, etched in golden threads. In his hair sat a thin circlet of gold, similar to the silver one that Marinette wore in her black hair. She rested her hand in his, the white sleeve with delicate beading reaching down her arm and meeting the thick red fabric at her shoulder. The red flared around her sleeves and draped to the ground, resembling the crimson wings she once wore. The high neckline of the red dress resembled a cheongsam, with the violet jewels of the Agreste house resting at the base of her throat. She grinned up at the comte, not paying attention to where she placed her feet. Marinette stepped on the bottom of the gown and gasped as she tripped. 

Adrien caught her easily, laughing with her as they ascended the steps to the head table. They stood in front of the table and the comte smiled as he addressed the crowd. “Where is the captain of the guard?”

Nino emerged from the crowd and stood proudly before the comte. “My lord?”

“I ask that you bring out my gift for my new wife.”

Marinette gasped and raised her hand. “Alya!” She paused, then held herself higher. “That is, Lady Alya. I also wish for my gift to be brought!”

The two former bandits appeared with large packages covered in fabric. They approached the two nobles, who reached under the fabric to bring out their presents. Marinette glanced back at Adrien, her hands still concealed. “On three?”

Adrien nodded. “One… 

“Three!”

They both turned with their gifts. In the arms of a comte rested a black cat, a small bell around its neck. The creature looked up at Marinette with large green eyes.

Alternatively, the comtesse held high her own gloved hand, with a medium-sized falcon perched there. The bird’s feathers on its breast and under the wings was pale with brown speckles, while the upper plumage was slate grey. 

Marinette beamed at her new husband. “It seems we had the same idea.”

Behind her, Alya locked eyes with Nino and winked at him. He winked back.

As the two exchanged their presents, the marchioness scoffed. “Honestly, the nerve of the girl.”

Sabrina frowned and whispered to Chloe, “What’s wrong?”

Chloe glared at her mother. “Well, Sabrina, that type of falcon is generally reserved for squires; some would say it’s not appropriate for a comte.”

The handmaiden blinked at her, impressed. “I… Oh.”

Chloe held her head high and said loudly enough to where her mother could hear, “But under the circumstances, I think it entirely appropriate.”

As the comte and comtesse took their seats at the head table, music started to play, and servants began bringing out the large displays of food to be enjoyed by the nobles and villagers alike. All ate eagerly, though many still had their eyes on the large cake that the baker guarded ferociously. 

The marquis was the first to finish his meal, and after sitting back for a moment to regain his composure, he stood and stepped away from the table, approaching the comte and comtesse. “My lord, my lady, I wish to express my congratulations.”

The two nodded, and Marinette said, “Thank you, my lord.”

The large man cleared his throat. “I also wish to present my gift. Per our last conversation, Comte Agreste, I was unable to secure the funds from the city of Paris to repair the roads that connect our lands.” A servant approached with a small chest, placing it on the table before them. “However, I did find the nobles of the city agreeable to offer a wedding gift of the same amount, and I shall personally send over as many men needed to finish the repairs.”

Adrien beamed at him. “You live up to the fame of your house’s generosity, Marquis Bourgeois. Once the roads are repaired, I hope we shall be seeing more of you.”

The marquis lifted an eyebrow. “Actually, my lord, I’d rather avoid traveling through the forest; an incident several months ago left a rather sour taste in my mouth.” He rubbed at his wrists. 

Laughter echoed off the walls of the courtyard, and even Chloe poorly hid a chuckle. 

Many gifts were brought and presented by their friends; all the bandits, Master Fu, Nathalie and Madame Bustier. The final gift came from Marinette’s parents; the baker stepped forward with his wife. He tried to speak, but only tears fell from his eyes. “I… Ma fille…”

Beside him, Madame Dupain-Cheng smiled as she shook her head, placing an ornately carved tea pot on the table. “This is an heirloom in our family, dating back hundreds of years. I know we already have the cake, and of course, we can’t afford a dowry, but…” She bowed. “We hope that-”

Marinette had already leapt from her seat and thrown her arms around her mother, laughing. “You must never bow to me, Maman! Thank you! Thank you both!” She reached for her father. He grinned beneath the great mustache and swallowed both women in his arms.

Adrien sat at the table, smiling sadly as he watched. His gaze drifted up to the tower window, where a dark silhouette was just barely visible.

Suddenly, Madame Dupain-Cheng grabbed his arm and pulled him around the table, inviting him into the hug. He laughed as the baker squeezed them all tight, to the cheers of the courtyard. 

As the family moved back to their seats, a voice crackled from the crowd, “I also have a gift!”

The gathering moved aside as an old woman came forward, her long cloak hanging in tatters around her hunched body and face. Her cane clacked on the cobblestones as she approached, concealing something in her hand. “For the comtesse, if it please you.” She held out her palm to Marinette, revealing a matching pair of crimson earrings. 

Marinette paused, then moved from around the table and stood before the old woman. She gazed into the woman’s green eyes, lifting her hand. “Thank you, but-” She leaned in close. “You’ll have to do better than that, Lila.”

The old woman snarled and threw off her robe, her features melting away to reveal the face of the huntress. Lila grabbed her cane and unsheathed the short sword within, thrusting at Marinette. The comtesse dodged and grabbed her wrist, colliding her fist with the huntress’s temple. 

Chloe jumped to her feet as the marchioness fainted. Alya and Nino also rushed in, swords drawn. 

Lila snarled and whipped around, slashing her sword through the air. Marinette leaned back, but the very tip of the blade sliced cleanly above Marinette’s eyebrow. She lost her balance and fell back, the crowd screaming as the combined forces of Nino, Alya, and Chloe tackled Lila. 

Adrien ran down from his chair, taking Marinette into his arms as he lifted her. “Milady!”

She grinned up at him as blood dripped down her face. “It’s just a scratch, chaton.”

The comte gazed down at her, as Nathalie emerged from the crowd and called, “She will be beheaded at once, my lord!”

“No!” Marinette stood upright. “No, she… Put her in the dungeons. I will deal with her.”

Nino and Alya dragged her away, while Chloe remained. The comte reached for Marinette. “Your face, milady. We must tend to it.”

The comtesse rolled her eyes, but let herself be led back into the castle by her new husband. There was a moment of uncertainty until Chloe cleared her throat. “Well, there’s no use in wasting a perfectly good party.” She snapped her fingers at the musicians, who struck up again. Chloe approached her family’s table, offering a hand to Sabrina. “Shall we dance?”

***

“Chaton, really, I’m fine.” Marinette chuckled as he sat her on the bed, shooing away the handmaidens that swarmed around them. 

“It’s alright, everyone, go enjoy the party. I’ll take care of the comtesse.” The servants hesitated, then bowed their heads and departed. 

Marinette smiled as the cat pressed a wet cloth against her cheek. “Ah, what’s a wedding without a scrape or two?”

“Hardly a scrape, my lady, but I am glad you’re okay.” He paused. “What will you do with her? Lila, I mean?”

Marinette sighed and cast her eyes down. “I’m not sure. Part of me wants to banish her, but that gives her the option to return with more forces.” She bit her lip. “I want to believe she can change.”

“I know you do.” Adrien grinned down at her. “That’s why I married you.”

Her eyes lit up. “I meant to ask, did you like your present, my love?”

“I did, but I will say it will take some getting used to.” He smirked. “That bird’s a lot lighter than you were.”

“And what are you implying?”

“Nothing, only that you could have laid off the rabbits once in a while.”

She slapped playfully at his stomach. “You beast.”

Adrien kissed her gently on the forehead. “Your beast.”

The comtesse looked past him to the rest of the bedroom. The walls glowed orange, shadows growing longer with the fading light of day. Marinette reached up and took his hand. “I have an idea. Can you help me out of my gown?”

Marinette slipped on a pair of trousers and a white shirt. She pulled Adrien out onto the balcony, hopping over the railing and grabbing onto the thick cobblestones of the wall. He watched with admiration as she climbed effortlessly, then followed her lead. 

The comtesse scaled the wall and sat on the rooftop, gazing out at the celebrating courtyard below, the trees stretching endlessly, illuminated by the fading orange sun. Adrien took his place beside her, and they leaned on each other. 

As the final rays of light disappeared, they both twitched instinctively, then laughed. She smiled at him. “I missed the sun. I imagine you missed the moon?”

“I did.” He reached up and traced his finger along her collarbone, over the necklace with its violet jewels that his mother once wore. Adrien looked into her blue eyes, then leaned in to press his lips against her ear. “But not as much as I missed you, milady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Thank you so much to everyone who has left kudos/comments/bookmarked this fic; it means so much to me. I'm hoping you guys enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it, and feel free to leave a comment if you have any follow up questions! Love and stuff!


End file.
